


Bringing the house down

by Val0nquar_17



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, F/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24148360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val0nquar_17/pseuds/Val0nquar_17
Summary: Victoria Hughes and Lucas Ripley start something complicated that grows into something even more complicated. Question is, will they be able to make it?Canon divergence after 2x6
Relationships: Lucas Ripley & Robert Sullivan, Victoria Hughes & Travis Montgomery, Victoria Hughes/Lucas Ripley
Comments: 124
Kudos: 123





	1. A Real Good Place to Start

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction ever and I'm not a native English speaker, so needless to say, I am very, very nervous and about to idly ramble to let all of you know that I'm really nervous, so you can just skip the notes if you want to. I first watched Ripley die a month ago and I just can't get over it, so I thought I'd stop bitching about Shondaland crushing my heart every single time and start writing what I wanted to happen for Vicley, and finally settled on starting at the beginning, because I felt it was drastically overlooked in the show. So, anyway, this is a Vicley story that starts the morning after he called her, one that should continue if anyone here likes it.

Victoria Hughes got out of her Jeep and made her way to the door of a small, low-key diner that, while not trashy, wasn’t exactly second-glance material. But that was kind of the point, since it was here that Ripley and she had agreed to meet when he called her last night. The less noticeable, the better. That this was the only kind of place where they could get coffee together should probably have bothered her, but the alluring aspect of having to be secretive was undeniable. She did feel a tinge of guilt for lying to her team – especially Travis – about why she couldn’t join their waterfront day-drinking at Miller’s houseboat (she’d told them she had to go to the bank) but brushed it off quickly. Like any family, they all kept some things from one another.

Her very attractive secret was already there, absentmindedly steering his coffee as he stared out the window, blond wavy hair reflecting the October sunlight. The chiming of the door as it opened made him look in her direction and he shot her a warm smile as she walked up to his booth.

“Hey,” Vic greeted him a bit nervously as she sat down across from him, the comfortable fake leather red-and-orange bench sinking a little under her weight.

“Hey,” Ripley said back in that deep half-whispering tone she found so very endearing. The one he’d used to tell her that he liked the people at 19. That, and the way his azure sweater highlighted his magnificent blue eyes, making them sparkle like a cloudless night as he looked at her, sent a light shiver through her body. A small scoff escaped her at the realization that she couldn’t spend two seconds in his presence without getting turned on.

He frowned in confusion, “What?”

“Nothing,” she answered, nervously bringing a hand to the side of her face. “You just – you look nice.”

“Well, so do you,” he replied as his eyes fleetingly trailed down her upper body, a flirtatious grin on his lips.

Vic blushed a little and averted her gaze. “So, we’re really doing this, huh?”

His expression suddenly became very serious, the myriad of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes disappearing as he sat a little straighter. He waited for her to meet his eyes again before answering, “Only if you want to.”

“Oh, I want to,” she murmured with a flirty grin.

“You’re sure?”

Vic laughed and rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Yes, I am. As I told you about three hundred times during our two-minute phone call last night.”

“I know but –”

“No buts,” she cut him off firmly. She had no intention of letting him think for a second that his position of power over her had anything to do with her desire to fuck him over and over again. “Look, I know you’re my boss. My boss’s boss’s boss even” – the reference made him chuckle – “but I promise you I wouldn’t have slept with you if I hadn’t wanted to. And I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to. I’m not –”

She was interrupted by a red-headed waiter who looked to be in his twenties asking her if she wanted anything. She quickly ordered a coffee before going on. “I’m not looking for an easy way up – not that I think you’d give it to me anyway. And I’m not scared that you’d make things hard for me professionally if I turned you down. I’m a strong, grown-ass woman who’s here because she wants to have lots and lots of mind-blowingly good sex with the very attractive man sitting in front of her. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ripley agreed, his eyes glinting teasingly as he shot her a cocky smirk. “Then I guess we’re doing this.”

“Right, I have a question for you, then.” His eyebrows furrowed questioningly as she leaned in and whispered, “What name I am supposed to scream the next time you make me come?”

Of course, their waiter chose that exact second to come back with her coffee, almost spilling the black liquid as he set it on the table, a shade of red creeping up on his face until even his ears were scarlet. Ripley wasn’t faring much better, blushing furiously as he watched the poor man walk away before turning his attention back to her.

“I, uh, you – you can call me Lucas,” he answered with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Okay, _Lucas_.” Vic let the name roll on her tongue, liking the sound of it. “I’m Vic. Although goddess of all that is good and beautiful works too.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’ll keep that in mind, Vic.” She definitely liked the sound of _that_.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, grinning stupidly as they both took a sip of their coffee, before he spoke again, hesitantly raising the implicit reason they’d decided to have coffee instead of directly meeting at her place. “Should we maybe have some… ground rules?”

In normal circumstances, that kind of sentence made Vic want to run the other way, because “ground rules” didn’t go well with the casual, uncomplicated, forget-about-the-later relationships she liked to have. But in this particular instance, where uncomplicated was not an option because, by getting involved, they were both putting their careers in jeopardy, ground rules seemed necessary; a way to reduce the risks as much as possible. 

She nodded her agreement, waiting for him to speak and raising her eyebrows inquisitively when he didn’t. “I can’t set the rules,” he explained with a sigh. “I don’t want you agreeing just because you feel pressured –”

“Okay, rule number one,” she interrupted in a slightly annoyed tone, “you have to stop doing that. I’m not a helpless little girl. Nor am I your subordinate here. If I don’t agree, I’ll say so. So, accept that I am a willing participant with a mind of my own and stop worrying about me feeling pressured or coerced or anything else.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceited, throwing his hands up in defeat, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re very bossy, you know that, right?”

“You didn’t seem to mind the other day,” she reminded him, lightly biting her lower lip.

Ripley’s – no, Lucas’s – eyes darkened with desire. “I think we better hurry with those ground rules.” His husky tone sent a wave of heat through her body – she couldn’t agree more.

And so, they did. It didn’t take much time, as they didn’t discuss the relationship _per se_ (they both knew what that was; fun, casual sex that had no future whatsoever), but simply what should be done not to let to fact that he was the Fire Chief and she was an unranked firefighter become a problem – no telling anyone, no letting it affect their work should they find themselves at the same scene, and, as she had already stated, no wondering if her actions we dictated by fear of professional repercussions.

As soon as it was done, they were out of the diner and on their way to her place – separately, since they both had their own car. Vic made the trip in record time, which gave her the time to go to the bathroom before he arrived. She shivered in anticipation when the knock came. Before he could say a word, her hands flew to the collar of his coat and pulled him down into a hungry kiss. The chuckle prompted by her enthusiasm died in his throat as she ran her tongue over his lips. They parted eagerly, allowing her to slide inside his mouth. Their tongues met heatedly as she pulled them backwards. He closed the door with his foot before spinning them around and pushing her up against it, pressing his body against her own as his hands settled on her hips. Vic gasped at the feeling of his growing erection and instinctively wrapped one leg around him. He grabbed the back of her thigh, supporting her and she repeated the motion with her other leg. They both moaned as she grinded against his groin, desperate for more friction.

“Bed. Now,” she breathed out, breaking the kiss.

Lucas shot her a cocky smirk, “As my lady commands.”

Her mouth covered his again and their tongues resumed their heated dance as he blindly carried her to her bedroom – or rather, tried to, before bumping into the kitchen table. He reflexively let go of her to grab the edge of the table on either side of her, trying to regain his balance, forcing her to tighten her grip around his waist and awkwardly wriggle her ass up until she was sitting on the table.

“Sorry,” he panted against her lips.

“Kitchen’s fine,” she said quickly before crashing her lips back on his and divesting him of his coat, her forced dry humping having made the need between her legs almost unbearable. They weren’t going anywhere now.

He chuckled into her mouth and brought his hands to her sides, his fingers playing with the hem of her t-shirt. She briefly pulled apart to allow him to take it off. His own sweater and t-shirt quickly followed. Vic took a second to admire his chiseled torso, letting her fingers ghost over his firm pecs. “God, you’re hot,” she blurted without thinking.

Lucas laughed breathily before growling, “I got nothing on you, baby.”

And damn if the Fire Chief calling her ‘baby’ didn’t arouse her even more – though she hadn’t thought that was possible. “Okay, enough talking.”

He complied happily, placing a brief kiss on her lips before leaving a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck, letting his teeth graze her skin, the softness of his lips contrasting with the way his rough, short beard scraped against her. She arched her neck and let out a heavy moan when he suckled the skin just above her collarbone as he deftly undid her bra and brought a hand to her breast, squeezing it lightly. He continued his journey down her body until his mouth closed over the other one, his tongue flicking her hard nipple before he took it between his teeth. Vic moaned again, louder, and her legs tightened their grip around him as she rubbed herself against his now very hard shaft. She grabbed his golden hair tightly and pulled him back up, kissing him roughly.

“I need you inside of me, please.” She would be embarrassed about how pleading she sounded, except his hands were now undoing the button of her jeans and she couldn’t think about anything else. She used her hold on his waist to lift herself up as he slid both pants and underwear down her ass. She let her legs fall long enough for him to rid her off her clothes completely and for her to undo his belt and fly, bringing them back around him as his jeans and briefs fell to his ankles, angling her hips so that his tip was pressed against her entrance.

“You ready?”

"I’ve been ready since I walked into the diner.”

His pupils dilated and he entered her, unbearably slowly. They both gasped at the sensation. He stilled when he was fully inside of her, his eyes silently asking if she was okay. “For the love of God,” she groaned, “just fuck me, Lucas.”

For someone who spent his days bossing people around, Lucas was very obedient. He pulled out almost completely before roughly thrusting into her again. Her moan was swallowed by his lips hungrily attacking hers. She kissed him back just as fervently as he set a quick pace and used her locked legs as leverage to meet his every thrust. She moaned and he groaned, their mouths pulling apart when it became too difficult to breathe. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and quickened the pace even more, his grip on her hips getting tighter and tighter. It wasn’t long until Vic felt her climax build up. She writhed against him frantically, desperate for release, chanting his name like a prayer. His thrusts became erratic, a sign that he was close as well. He suddenly moved his hands from her hips to her ass and hoisted her from the table. Her arms closed around his shoulders, and there was not an inch left between their bodies. The added friction was all Vic needed to send her over the edge. She came around him with a scream and he set her back on the edge of the table, pounding inside of her as he reached his own climax with her name on his lips.

He pulled out of her as she unwrapped her legs, letting them fall back to either side of him. Lucas’s forehead came to rest against hers and they were both content with staring at each other for a while, their eyes glassy with sated desire, the silence around them interrupted only by their heavy breathing. Vic absentmindedly played with the short sweaty hair at the back of his neck and let herself enjoy the feeling of his fingers gently running up and down her spine. They stayed like this for what seemed like a fleeting yet eternal moment, basking in the warm embrace.

“I think I like getting you naked,” Vic mumbled at some point.

The sound of his hearty, low laughter filled the room as he pulled back a little. “I think I like it too.” He pressed a lazy kiss on her mouth before he added, “Breakfast?”

The mention of food brought a childish smile to her face and she nodded energetically. “I think I have enough to make us some French toast.” She let her feet fall to the ground as he stepped back and pulled his pants back up. Vic eyed her own jeans unflatteringly, less than tempted to shimmy back into them. “I’m gonna put on something more comfortable,” she told Lucas, gathering the clothes that had been hastily thrown to the floor and making her way to her bedroom.

When she came back, wearing nothing but a blue oversized t-shirt and another set of panties, a still shirtless Lucas was already busying himself around her kitchen, blindly opening the cabinets as he gathered the necessary ingredients. Vic leaned on the doorframe, her eyes following the movement of his muscular back with a vivid interest.

“Enjoying the show?” he sneered, briefly glancing at her over his shoulder.

She let out a short laugh and moved towards him, wrapping her arms around him as she pressed herself against his back, her lips resting in the space between his shoulder blades. “Not every day that I have a hot, half-naked Fire Chief cooking me breakfast,” she mumbled against his soft skin.

Vic felt him tense for a second and mentally kicked herself for reminding them of the elephant in the room, worrying that it would ruin the light, pleasant mood. She didn’t want to have another conversation about the many, many ranks between them. But when he turned around to face her, he still seemed very relaxed, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes.

“Well,” he said, brushing their lips together, “that might have something to with you running out of your own apartment when said hot, half-naked Fire Chief is under the shower.”

“I said I was sorry about that,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t wanna be late.”

“Hmm, I’m sure that’s it,” he smirked, clearly unconvinced.

Standing on her tiptoes, Vic brought her mouth to his. His lips parted and she closed her eyes, focusing on the way his tongue felt as it entwined with hers in a slow, sensual kiss. A low moan escaped her as the familiar heath started building up between her legs again, but he pulled away before their embrace became more passionate.

“You won’t get your breakfast if you keep distracting me like that,” he muttered laughingly.

“But I want you,” she pouted.

He chuckled softly. “And you’ll have me. But first, you gotta let me feed you.”

Vic begrudgingly let go of him and made them some coffee before setting the table, trying not to let the memory of what had just happened on that very table into her mind. They fell into a companionable silence for the next few minutes as the delicious smell of French toasts filled the room. That this scene felt so comfortable was surprising. They didn’t know each other well – if at all. And yet being around him seemed natural. Vic liked how relaxed he acted when it was only the two of them, how different this smiling, laughing, sweater-wearing Lucas was to the stern man who’d spent six weeks ordering them around when he’d been acting captain.

“God, that looks amazing,” she exclaimed when he let the food fall on her plate, her mouth watering at the sight of the fluffy, greasy loaf of bread. “Tastes amazing too,” she added, her mouth still full of the bite she’d stuffed inside it.

Lucas grinned at her happily as he sat across from her, “Glad you like it.”

“What do you think French people call French toasts?” she wondered out loud after a moment of silence. “I mean, for them, it’s just toasts, right? So, how do they make the difference between French toasts and normal toasts?”

He shot her an amused glance and swallowed before answering. “They call it _pain perdu_. Means ‘lost bread’.”

Vic had to stifle a laugh. “Seriously? Damn, these people are weird. They’re lucky they invented fries, ‘cos they got nothing else going for them.” 

“They didn’t invent fries.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-it-all,” she teased, pointing her fork in his direction. “Why are they called _French_ fries, then?”

“Because when Americans came to Europe during World War I, they ate fries in France and in the French-speaking part of Belgium and so assumed they were French. But they’re actually Belgian.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him, eyes widening in surprise, “And how do you all that exactly?”

“Backpacked through Europe with my sister just before I started the Academy. One night in Brussels we started talking with these guys and Jen – that’s my sister, Jennifer – had the misfortune to say, ‘French fries’. That earned us a thirty-minute long explanation about the origin of fries.”

That made Vic laugh openly. “They lectured you about _fries_ for thirty minutes?”

His laughter joined hers, “Well, it’s a very touchy subject for them.”

“So, besides getting weird Belgian lectures, what else did you do in Europe?”

Just like that, the conversation started flowing. He told her about all the cities he visited, described the colorfulness of Prague, with its pink and green and blue houses; the way the people in Paris walked like they permanently had to catch a train; the graffiti’s on the still standing part of the Berlin Wall; the heartbreaking memories living in Auschwitz; the architectural wonders of Rome and Florence. Vic asked some questions but mostly listened, enthralled by his stories as he recounted the time Jennifer got drunk for the first time of her life in Brussels (she interrupted him for a while at that moment, needing to make sure he wasn’t making fun of her about the legal drinking age for beer being sixteen there), and how they’d chased a bus down the streets of Paris because he’d forgotten his backpack inside it. His gaze brightened when he depicted the sun rising behind the coliseum, as though he was trying to mirror the image of the golden rays with the glimmering light of his gorgeous blue eyes.

“What?” he suddenly asked, shooting her a curious look as he paused in the middle of a tale about Jennifer begging him for an entire day to let her smoke some pot when they were in Amsterdam.

Vic had been so fascinated that she hadn’t realized she was staring at him intently, her chin resting on the back of her hand and an idiotic smile plastered on her face. She straightened up with a blush and tore her eyes away from him, trying not to look like a foolish schoolgirl talking to her crush. “Nothing,” she assured with a shake of her head. “You’re just a very good storyteller. Almost feels like I’m there.”

“I’ve had practice,” Lucas explained with a sigh, wistfully stroking his greying blond beard. “My parents died in a car crash when I was in college. Jen had just turned twelve. She’s dyslexic, so my father had never stopped reading to her every night before she went to sleep, and I took over for him after he passed. I read to her almost every day for the next couple of years, until she felt like she’d grown out bedtime stories.”

Her heart clenched and swelled at the same time, torn between the sadness that had taken over his face and the touching image of a barely grown up Lucas reading stories to his little sister before she fell asleep. Not many guys would have done that – her own brother certainly wouldn’t have. Lucas really did care more than she could possibly know. His relationship with his sister was probably what made him such a great Fire Chief (even though it had taken Vic some time to see it); a big brother floating over them all like a protective shadow.

Without a conscious thought, her arm stretched across the table to grasp his hand. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she murmured, her fingers entwining with his as her thumb drew small circles against his skin.

He squeezed her hand lightly and offered her a warm smile, “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. And, as I said, it gave me lots and lots of storytelling practice. Let me tell you, after having to act out _The Notebook_ to a teenage girl, there’s really no story you can’t tell.”

They both laughed, letting the heavy atmosphere dissipate.

“Are you and your sister still close?”

“Oh yeah, I see her at least once a…” he trailed off as his expression turned to slight panic. His gaze trailed down to his left wrist, seemingly looking for something that wasn’t there. “Shit, I forgot my watch. What time is it?”

As always, Vic mechanically glanced towards the timer on her microwave and, as always, the red glowing numbers were most definitely wrong. Standing up, she walked to the narrow table next to her front door, where she always set her keys and her bag, and pulled her phone out. For a second, she wondered if the screen was showing the wrong time as well. How could it already be half past one? Had they really been talking for over two hours? Before she could start freaking out about it (they were supposed to be fucking, not talking), however, Lucas called her name, asking her for the time once more. He noticeably relaxed as she told him.

“Good,” he breathed out in relief. Taking in her questioning look, he added, “Today’s my niece’s sixth birthday. I’d completely forgotten about it until two seconds ago. But I don’t have to be there until four.”

“Well, that gives us plenty of time,” she said, suggestively swaying her hips on her way to him. His eyes trailed down to her bare legs and he visibly swallowed, pushing his chair away from the table so that she could straddle him. Vic let her fingers tangle in his hair as she teasingly rubbed against him, earning a low groan. Their eyes locked in a lustful, heated gaze.

“Not that much time,” Lucas corrected, an arrogant smile on his face. 


	2. Let the Wind Blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a revisited version of the storm episode; kept some stuff, changed others. Changed more than I kept.

Vic briskly strode in Dean’s houseboat, breathing out in relief as she shut the door behind her and escaped the sharp winds that were howling all over Seattle. The storm seemed to be getting wilder with each passing minute. On the way here, she’d briefly considered checking in on Lucas, but had decided against it; sending him messages that didn’t involve asking when they could get naked together would be the beginning of a slippery slope on which Vic had no intention of sliding. Besides, he’d left for HQ very early this morning, when the storm was still at a pretty mild state and had most likely been safely quartered there ever since.

She greeted everyone with a broad grin before settling at the kitchen counter, next to where Bishop was industriously chopping vegetables, very happy to idly stand by and snatch bits of food as almost everyone busied themselves with the Friendsgiving preparations. As always, Andy arriving meant entertainment; Vic followed the awkward exchange with Tanner with a malicious glint in her eyes. Her amusement was short-lived, however.

“So, Vic,” Herrera started in a tone that bode nothing good, leaning on the counter. “When do you plan to tell us about your bank buddy?”

Vic could only blink in confusion, “My what now?”

“Your bank buddy,” Bishop repeated matter-of-factly, as though that was supposed to clear everything up.

“You know,” Travis’s voice came from behind her, making Vic jump on her stool, “the guy you ditched us for the other day when you ‘had to go the bank’.”

A blush crept over Vic’s face as she dropped her eyes, suddenly fascinated by one of the kitchen knives. “I have no idea what y’all are talking about.”

“Come on, Hughes,” Gibson interjected from where he stood next to the TV, and Vic realized in panic that every single person in the room was listening to the conversation, “we all know you couldn’t keep a secret if your life depended on it. Just tell us who your bank buddy is already.”

“And all the other juicy details,” Travis added with an excited smile.

Knowing that there was no way she would be able to convince them that there was nothing to tell and that they wouldn’t stop prodding her until they found out more, Vic jumped on the first excuse that came to her mind, calling on the long forgotten drama classes to deliver it as convincingly as possible. “It was David, okay? The guy from 23.”

Her best friend looked at her in exaggerated disappointment. “Mayhorn, really?”

“Didn’t you say the guy was a tool?” Warren chipped in.

Maya let out a loud sneer, “He’s from 23, of course he’s a tool.”

“Look, it was just a one-time reunion, alright? No need to get all fired up about it.” That came to Vic almost naturally and guilt started bubbling in her chest at the realization that, the more she lied to them, the easier it would get. She shoved the feeling away; there was no point dwelling on it. It wasn’t like telling the truth was an option, and neither was giving up what may very well be the best sex she’d ever had – that was definitely worth a little bit of guilt.

The conversation drifted after that, the subject of her ‘bank buddy’ completely forgotten as Andy started talking about her weird coffee-date with an apparently infuriating Sullivan. They were busy debating which part of their captain’s overall mean personality was the worst when a chorus of notification alerts interrupted them, followed by simultaneous groans from everyone but Grant and Tanner as they read Sullivan’s text telling them they had to come in after all.

Vic was slightly annoyed but unsurprised – Lucas had warned her last night about the possibility of some off-duty shifts getting called in. What did surprise her, however, was the Fire Chief walking into her station like he owned the place (though she supposed he kind of did) and barking orders at everyone – looking really, really good while doing it. Vic couldn’t help the heat that swarmed through her body as his gaze fleetingly met hers. Boy, did he wear his uniform well. His turnouts too, she discovered later, when he climbed inside the Engine right before she did. Luckily, Maya was too focused on impressing the chief – or rather, on very annoyingly kissing his ass – to notice the building sexual tension. By the time they came back to the station, Vic felt like she was about to implode – and judging by the glances he sent her way as they were wielding their chainsaws, so did Lucas.

It took a very cold shower to quell her desire to shove him inside a room with a lock and have her way with him. When she got to the beanery, everyone – including her secret… whatever he was – had already taken a seat around the table, which was covered with an exuberant amount of delicious-looking food; Travis really had gotten himself a keeper. Of course, the only available chair was the one across from Lucas. Sighing inwardly, Vic sat down, careful not let her eyes dart in his direction, and joined the animated chatter as she filled her plate with the multitude of different dishes. She was just beginning to believe that she might make it through the meal without so much as glancing at him when Tanner asked Grant how he’d managed to make one of the dishes so tasty.

“It’s all about the spice, really,” came the answer, and Vic couldn’t help turning her head towards Lucas. They shared a knowing glance, his blue eyes reflecting the laughter that was begging to escape her lips. And then Travis spoke, “Oh, yeah, Grant has been teaching me all about the value of spice lately.”

She and Lucas suddenly burst into an uncontrollable laughter, prompting the rest of the table to look at them in utter bewilderment. Vic hardly noticed; she was too busy trying not to fall from her chair as her entire body shook with laughter and forcing deep, loud breaths to enter her lungs. Every time she thought she was calming down, one look at Lucas had her back to a state of irrepressible hilarity. She had no idea how long it lasted; when it was finally over, tears were rolling down her cheeks and the muscles in her stomach ached like she’d done a hundred crunches.

Lucas cleared his throath, the corners of his mouth still visibly fighting off a smile, “Sorry about that. It’s, uh, been a long day for everyone, I suppose.”

The others all shared a puzzled look, but no one dared to comment.

“It sure has, sir,” Gibson eventually ventured. “Speaking of which, who’s up for a drink at our house after shift?”

Dean groaned and whined as the proposition was met with general agreement, and the awkwardness dwindled away. Lucas quickly finished his meal and got up, telling them he’d be in the captain’s office if they needed anything, then walked out of the beanery, abandoning Vic to the questioning stares that fell on her as soon as the door closed behind him.

“What?” she asked, trying to keep her tone jaded.

Bishop raised an eyebrow at her. “You were just laughing your ass off with _Ripley_. And you ask, ‘what’?”

Vic affected an indifferent shrug, “Yeah, people usually laugh when they find something funny. Ripley’s people. He laughs. What’s the big deal?”

“But there was nothing funny…” Travis said, sounding genuinely confused. “I mean, we were just talking about food then you started giggling like children.”

“You said something about your boyfriend teaching you the value of spice! How do you not hear how dirty that sounds?”

“I guess it does sound dirty,” Miller agreed with a wistful nod. “Though knowing that Ripley laughs at dirty stuff is highly disturbing. I always thought of him as more of a robot, you know?” A disgusted wince suddenly distorted his features. “Oh God, do you think the guy has sex?”

“Oh, he definitely has sex.” For a horrifying second, Vic wondered if she’d spoken without realizing it, but then every eye turned toward Bishop. She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. The reprieve didn’t last long; Maya felt the need to explain herself. “What? I have eyes. The chief’s _hot_. And he looks like he’d be good in bed, too.”

In that moment, Vic wanted nothing more than to vanish into thin air. But, apparently, the universe had decided to make her squirm, because Grant wondered out loud if Ripley would be better in bed than Sullivan, which was followed by everyone voicing their opinions on the subject.

“Hughes, what’s your take?” Gibson asked at some point.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” She paused, pretended to think about it. “Ripley’s sexier, I guess.”

Dean shook his head in confusion, “I do not understand women.”

“Oh, I _so_ do,” Travis said with an enthused nod. “Have you seen the guy’s eyes? They’re very blue. And I’m pretty sure there’s a very chiseled jaw hiding under that beard.”

 _You have no idea_ , Vic thought with an inward smirk as she remembered her fingers grazing Lucas’s muscular jawline. If only he knew what else the chief was hiding, for instance under the many layers of his uniform; the deep lines between the muscles of his chest, the robust shoulders, the sinewy back, the strong arms that would flex so exquisitely when he was busy pleasuring her with his deft, calloused fingers… And, there it was again, the primitive fire ravaging her insides. Vic had had her share of cold showers for the day, though. Right now, she wanted Lucas. She _needed_ Lucas.

*

* *

The office hadn’t changed much since Sullivan had taken over as captain. Same walls, pale grey on three sides, blue on one, same steel-colored filing cabinets, same heavy binders resting on the same brown shelves, same huge American flag hanging from a wooden pole. Only the desk was different, high enough to work in an upright position, but not so high that a fairly tall person couldn’t also sit at it should they choose to. If it hadn’t been for that, most people wouldn’t have noticed that there’d been a change of ownership. And yet, in Lucas’s eye, Herrera’s office and Sullivan’s office were as different as night and day. It was the missing model firetruck, the empty space on the wall where a child’s drawing of a firefighter had once hung, the absence of the picture of an ecstatic eight-year-old girl wearing an oversized turnout vest. Pruitt’s office had been a testament to the joy that filled his life. The room Lucas was standing in right now reflected nothing but the cold and cruel emptiness that had been his former best friend’s sole companion for the last fifteen years.

When Lucas had flown to Montana to offer him the job, hoping that he’d be more convincing in person, he hadn’t been foolish enough to believe that he’d be talking to the person he used to know, but neither had he been prepared for the one that he’d met. A face of stone and a frigid glare; blank, unreadable, emotionless. The face of a man who wouldn’t let himself feel, lest he get hurt again. It had been heartbreaking; to witness what had become of the man whose personal motto had once been ‘embrace and enjoy’, to see the dullness in his eyes. Perhaps it protected him from even more pain, but it also prevented him from being happy again. Lucas wished there was something he could do, but Sullivan had made it clear that he didn’t want any help from him. He could only hope that, someday, his friend would find joy again; maybe then they would find a way to mend things.

For the better part of twenty minutes, Lucas just stood there, leaning against the desk, lost in thought as het let his gaze wander about the room, then decided to head for the conference room, unwilling to spend the rest of the afternoon caged in a reminder of everything that his best friend had lost. He opened the door to find Vic standing behind it, fist in the air as though she’d been about to knock. Before his mind could register a thing, she pushed him back inside the office, locking the door behind them as she flashed him a teasing grin.

“Vic…,” he said in what he’d meant to be an admonishing tone but came out as a husky growl, the word dripping with the desire he’d been fighting since he’d walked into the barn.

“I want you,” she breathed out in the same tone, pressing her body up against his and tilting her head up, her darkening eyes staring into his. “I’ve wanted you all day.”

Lucas could feel himself already reacting.

“What about the others?” he managed to ask with his last two functioning brain cells.

Her smile grew bigger. “They think I’m getting an update.” 

This was wrong. He couldn’t have sex with her here. They were in Sullivan’s office; her team was having ‘Friendsgiving’ dinner (whatever that meant) right above them. They couldn’t do this. It was wrong. Reckless. Stupid. But his last two brain functioning brain cells left him as his gaze trailed down her full, smirking lips, and then he was kissing them fervently, parting them with his tongue as his hands grabbed her waist and pulled their bodies flush against each other. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him back hungrily, pushing him backwards until his back hit the desk. He spun them around and his hands left her hips to eagerly undo the buttons of her uniform shirt as she was working on his belt. She opened his pants and snaked her hand inside his boxers. Lucas moaned into her mouth as she started stroking him. He pulled her undershirt out of her pants and let his fingers trail up her back, her skin impossibly soft against his fingertips. The pressure of her hand increased slightly, and he moaned again before bringing his hand to her wrist and stilling her movements.

“Turn around,” he murmured huskily.

Vic smiled at him salaciously. “Who’s bossy now?”

She turned around anyway. Lucas saw her hands go to her belt and then her pants slid down her legs, along with her underwear and she bent over the desk, hands firmly gripping the edges. His boxers became unbearably tight as her bare, perfectly round ass wriggled against his groin. One hand went to her hip as the other rushed between her legs. A small gasp escaped him as his fingers stroked her dripping folds.

“Fuck. You’re so wet.”

He heard her stifle a moan before she glanced at him over her shoulder with lustful eyes, “I’m always wet when I’m around you.”

Lucas swallowed hard and slid a finger inside of her. She moaned louder this time. “You gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispered teasingly against her ear as he added another finger. “We can’t have everyone knowing how good I make you feel.”

All the while pumping his fingers in and out of her, he clumsily freed himself from his underwear with his other hand. His erection sprang at attention, and he grabbed it, guiding it at her entrance as he withdrew his fingers. He fully sheathed himself into her with one rough thrust, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain a moan. Being inside of her was what he imagined heaven would be like, if it existed. She was so warm, so amazingly tight. As he moved his hips back and forth, thrusting again, and again, and again, the entire world disappeared. There was only them; their heavy breathing and muffled moans, their joint bodies working together towards mutual bliss. His hands were gripping her hips tightly, his white skin clashing with her caramel tone. Her inner walls squeezed around him and his mind went blank. He was close, so very close. He quickened the pace and brought one hand to her front, his fingers diligently working on the bundle of nerves between her legs. Her breathing became erratic as she frantically met his thrusts. And then she came with a small cry, a second before he spilled inside of her, teeth instinctively digging into her shoulder to swallow his groans of pleasure.

He pulled out of her, panting heavily against her skin. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that he’d actually bitten her. “Shit, Vic, I’m so sorry,” he breathed, his lips softly pressing on the spot where his teeth had left a shallow mark.

She turned to face him and kissed him lightly before answering, “Don’t be. You didn’t hurt me. Besides, it was kind of hot.”

Her smile was surprisingly shy for someone who was standing in front of him half-naked after having him inside of her. It was so endearingly cute that he couldn’t resist bringing his mouth over hers once more for a slow, passionate kiss.

“I have to get back,” she told him when they pulled apart. “Before they start wondering what’s taking me so long.”

They quickly arranged themselves as he gave her an actual update – they were mainly waiting to get reception back up – to bring to the rest of the crew. After one last brief kiss, Vic left, and he was once again standing alone in the captain’s office, which didn’t look nearly as bleak as it had a moment ago.

*

* *

Life was a funny thing, Lucas reflected as the hospital doors opened up in front of him; one minute you’re having mind-blowing secret sex in a firehouse, the next you’re getting a call about an overturned Aid Car, one that contained one of your most promising lieutenants and one of your best captains, who also happened to be your former best friend. Funny thing, indeed.

Herrera was first on his list. A broken arm and a few stitches on her leg. Herrera Senior and Bishop were in her room when he softly knocked on the door. She looked exhausted. He’d just wanted to check in, but she offered to give him the details, apparently not as tired as she seemed. A heavy gust of wind had made them swerve off the road. Both she and Sullivan had lost consciousness, but not for very long, according to their (now deceased) patient, who’d been awake the whole time. She’d injured her arm in the accident but had still been able to monitor the victim while Sullivan set up some flares. He had a minor head injury, she told him, and a mild concussion. The patient had crashed time and again until they couldn’t bring her back anymore. It was her birthday, apparently. But she had the necklace; that was something at least. Lucas had no idea what she was talking about but didn’t asked. He simply nodded, told her that he was very glad that she would be okay and that she needed to rest, then took his leave. She stopped him when he was at the door, asked him if she’d be allowed to work next shift; not active duty, of course, just reception ‘and stuff’. Lucas couldn’t help but chuckle; she was Pruitt’s daughter indeed. He said that it wasn’t up to him; her doctors and Sullivan were to ones she’d have to beg.

His next stop didn’t go as smoothly. Sullivan looked drained as well. A bandage covered half his forehead, his brown eyes were a little bit unfocused as they fell on Lucas’s face; for once, his gaze wasn’t one of steel. It wasn’t gentle either, though. Lucas had to give it to him, the captain was probably one of the only people on this planet that managed to look intimidating in a hospital gown. It was impressive, really.

“Chief,” Sullivan greeted in his usual stoic voice. “Wasn’t expecting your visit.”

“Well,” Lucas said with a friendly smile as took a few steps inside the room, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine. Just a mild concussion. They’re only keeping me overnight for good measure. I’ll be on my feet for next shift; you don’t have to worry about that.”

Lucas let out a heavy sigh as his hands settled on their favorite place – his hips. “You know that’s not what I’m worried about right now. I care about you. We were friends, once.”

“Once,” he agreed, imperturbable. “Not anymore.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Sully.”

He couldn’t help it; he hated the polite but indescribably cold way his old friend acted towards him. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to bridge the gap between them. He missed him, more than he had ever missed anyone before, except for his parents. Even after fifteen years, if something worth mentioning happened to him, he’d unconsciously put it in the corner of his mind reserved for the things he’d have to tell his best friend the next time he saw him. And then he’d remember that Sullivan wasn’t his best friend anymore, that they didn’t talk about anything but 19’s stats and overall budget. A flicker of pain would inevitably follow.

The awaited but still wounding answer came, “I think it does, sir. And please don’t call me ‘Sully’.”

“It doesn’t,” Lucas couldn’t help but insist. “You don’t have to keep holding this grudge. It was fifteen years ago.”

Sullivan glared at him as he replied, his tone as cold as ice, “I wasn’t aware there was a statute of limitations for being angry at someone for killing their wives.”

The words cut like a knife, and anger started bubbling inside Lucas. When he spoke, it was in an equally chill voice, “I’m sorry Claire died. I truly am. But you can’t keep blaming me for her death. I made the right call. Had it been any other patient, you would have made the exact same one, and you know that. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

Sullivan simply kept staring at him with murderous eyes. Lucas shook in head. “Fine. Blame me. Hate me. Live your life alone and unhappy. I’m done caring.”

He left without another word. He should have known that it was pointless. His eyes stung as he walked back to his car. A tear ran down his cheek as he turned on the ignition, was quickly wiped away. Lucas hadn’t lied; he was done caring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I know it doesn't really move the story along but it's important (kind of, I think) to the overall structure of the story so... Bear with me?
> 
> And thanks to everyone for your kudos and your reviews. Made me a little less nervous and very motivated to pursue this story. I'm not sure when next chapter'll be up because I'm pretty sure it's gonna be a long one and I really have to start studying for my exams, but it will be there.


	3. Drive My Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ripley shows Vic his house for the first time and... an unplanned weekend ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I ended up spending all my breaks writing so this chapter is here much sooner than I had thought it would be. Fair warning though, I wrote this with a mind imploding from memorizing a hundred years worth of Chinese history, so I might have gone somewhat overboard. I apologize in advance.

It was a cold and bleak Saturday morning. It seemed as though the gray of the sky was leaking on the city, painting every building, every street, every tree in the somber color. Vic and Lucas were having breakfast at the diner, chatting and laughing, oblivious to the gloomy atmosphere outside. It had been a little over a month since the first time they had had coffee here, and they had spent a lot of that time together. Lucas had stayed at her place almost every night she hadn’t been working. He would come by after work – usually around half past six – carrying a bag of whatever Vic had felt like eating that evening and they would eat, and talk, and have sex, though not necessarily in that order. Sometimes they’d snuggle in her couch and watch a movie. In the morning, they’d have sex again and then he would jump in the shower (where she joined him most of the time). He’d leave for work soon after, more often than not without having breakfast – there was always some early meeting he had to rush to, always about something Vic found incredibly boring; how he liked his job so much was beyond her.

On the few occurrences when they’d both had the day off, however, he had cooked her breakfast and, much like the first time he’d done that, they had ended up talking for hours. Vic was learning that they had much more in common than she’d originally thought. He liked musicals, old books with pages that barely held together, Roman history, John Grisham and the Cure. What had surprised her the most was the fact that he was as big a geek as she was; _The Lord of the Rings_ , _Star Wars_ , _A Song of Ice and Fire_ , he loved it all. That last one had made her beam like a child at the end of the school year – she finally had someone with whom she could bitch about how _Game of Thrones_ was becoming more and more of a disgrace to George R.R. Martin’s genius. He also talked about his family a lot – what was left of it, at least. His niece Abby and nephew Nathan were one of his favorite subjects. The way his face lit up whenever he mentioned them was the most adorable thing Vic had ever witnessed. Abby wanted to be a firefighter as well, he’d told her, which did not thrill Jennifer in the slightest. Her husband wasn’t worried, though – six-year-olds changed their minds all the time. Vic had surprised even herself when she started talking about her own family – her estranged brother she hadn’t talked to in years, her complicated relationship with her parents, whom she saw no more than once or twice a year, her beloved grandmother’s dementia. She usually never mentioned them; up until a couple weeks ago, Travis had been the only person in her life who knew about her family. But there was something about Lucas that made her open up to him. 

Each time, they had ended up spending the whole day in her apartment, talking and fucking and simply enjoying each other’s company, separating only the next morning when they had to go to work. Time with him flew by. It had been a long time since Vic had liked a guy so much, though she was doing a terrific job of ignoring that particular fact. It was better not to think about it, because whatever they were doing was bound to end at some point. So, she was happy to live in the now, to enjoy their moments together and actively not think about what it meant.

Which was exactly what she was doing right now as they ate their breakfast with a happy smile on their faces. She hadn’t had time to do grocery shopping this week, so they had decided to go to the diner instead of eating in. She was halfway through her stack of blueberry pancakes when a thought suddenly crossed her mind.

“Is there a reason we don’t ever go at your place? Like, you have bodies in your freezer, and you don’t want me to find them?”

Lucas looked up from the greasy bacon and scrambled eggs, a look of mock panic on his face. “Damn, I can’t believe you’ve discovered my secret. You should quit firefighting and join the police force; they’ve been looking for the bodies for years and still don’t have a clue where they are.”

Vic rolled her eyes at him. “Funny. You’re funny.”

“You’re the one who started with the weird theories,” he pointed out with a smirk.

“We’re always at _my_ apartment. So, it’s either bodies in your freezer or –” Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh my God, are you married?”

A mirthful laugh answered her, and she kicked him under the table. “It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is,” he said with another chuckle. “How could I be married? I’ve spent half my nights at yours this past month.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly my point! We don’t ever stay at yours. Your wife could be on a long business trip, or she could be serving in the army, or… Stop laughing!”

He did, but his beautiful blue eyes were still glinting with amusement. “I’m not married anymore, I swear. And I don’t know why we don’t ever go at mine. I got used to us spending time at your place, that’s all. But we can go to my house right now if you want to.”

“Alright, let’s do that. First I have to finish my pan…” She paused, realizing what he’d just said. “Hang on – did you say you’re not married _anymore_? You were – married?”

Embarrassment covered his features as he rubbed his hand over his beard and sighed, “Twice, actually. First time we were really young, and it fizzled fast. Second time… second time was a disaster.”

Vic didn’t push the subject; she could tell he really did not want to talk about it, and she respected that. Besides, it wasn’t any of her business; it wasn’t like she was his girlfriend or anything. So, she simply shrugged. “Well, as long as you’re not married now…”

He shook his head and smiled, “I’m not.”

“Then you’re gonna have to let me check your freezer.” 

The slight awkwardness vanished with their laughter and they quickly finished eating.

*

* *

They arrived at Lucas’s place twenty minutes later. It was a modern two-story house with light gray walls and a dark roof. The façade was divided between a wooden front porch on the right side and a huge steel-colored garage door on the left. Two large windows occupied the upper half. Next to the garage, a wooden fence revealed a backyard covered with well-mowed green grass.

Vic loved it; it was exactly the kind of house she had imagined herself living in when she was a kid. She told Lucas as much as he parked in the driveway. He received the compliment with a warm smile before getting out of the car. He opened her door, taking her hand as she stepped out and, even though chivalry was nothing but the remnants of a truly misogynistic culture, Vic couldn’t help but find the gesture terribly endearing. Still holding her hand, he led her to the front door and, after a few seconds of one-handed fidgeting, managed to open it.

Upon her request, he gave her a full tour. The house was amazing; the main floor featured a spacious U-shaped kitchen with a large center island, corner pantry and dining nook. Adjacent to the kitchen was the living room, with a big brown couch facing a huge plasma screen. There was also a dining room, a powder room and a restroom. His bedroom was upstairs. It was enormous, as was the adjoining bathroom. Two sinks, a toilet, a bath, and a large shower. There was a walk-in closet as well, which was half empty. A glass sliding door opened on a wooden balcony overlooking the backyard. The upper floor also held another bathroom, a guest bedroom, his study and, Vic’s favorite room by far, a library. It was meant as another bedroom, Lucas explained, but he’d transformed it when he bought the house; he didn’t need two spare bedrooms. Except for the window – next to which stood a comfortable-looking leather armchair – and the door, the room was entirely walled with rows upon rows of books, from floor to ceiling; there might have been a thousand, maybe more. They were organized alphabetically. Grisham, Martin and Tolkien were unsurprisingly present, surrounded by a myriad of other names. As she walked around the room with wide, excited eyes, she spotted virtually every author she had ever heard of, as well as a lot of names she didn’t know. Half of the last wall was dedicated to philosophers. She paused when her eyes fell on a thick hard-covered black book, on the spine of which _Capital, Volume I_ was written in golden letters, along with the name ‘Karl Marx’. It was followed by volumes two and three.

She turned towards Lucas with a smirk. “Communist much, babe?” she asked, wincing inwardly as the term of endearment involuntarily fell from her lips.

But he didn’t seem to notice; he simply snorted and shrugged. “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it; it’s philosophically very interesting.”

“Mmmh, I’m sure it is,” she murmured unconvinced as she finished studying the shelves.

“This library is amazing,” she said as she walked to where he was standing in the middle of the room and slid an arm around his waist. His settled over her shoulders. “The whole house is amazing. Can’t believe you hid it from me. You and Dean should get along well.”

He glanced at her questioningly and she explained.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured when she was done, pressing a light kiss to her temple. “I’m not as annoying as Miller. And you can come here as much as you want. It’s not like the house’s overcrowded anyway.”

“It does seem big for just one person,” she admitted, wondering if he used to share it with someone.

As though he’d read her mind, he answered her silent question. “Yeah, I kind of went through an early midlife crisis a few years back. I’d just become chief and I felt like I needed to make a move in my personal life as well. So…”

“So, you – bought a house,” Vic finished for him as she flashed him a mocking grin. “That’s totally not excessive.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’d never really spent any money, except on books, and my salary had just raised substantially. So, I figured, ‘why not?’”

She raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, “Right and you couldn’t buy a new car like all the other midlife-crisers?” 

There was a short pause as a sheepish look crossed his face. “Well…”

“Oh my God, you bought a car as well, didn’t you?” She exclaimed with a sneer.

His silence was all the answer she needed. She laughed. “Can I see it?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Lucas led her back downstairs as she kept on teasing him. The door to the garage was on the left of the entrance hall. He opened it and switched the light on, revealing a room wide enough for at least two cars. There was only one, hidden under a protective cover. The rest of the space was filled with various objects, from a baseball bat to a bicycle, from a toolbox to a dusty guitar. Shelves had been screwed on the walls and were covered with an unbelievable amount of disorganized junk. She opened her mouth to speak, but the playful gibe about the sheer messiness of the room got stuck in her throat when he lifted the protective cover from the car and stepped back, giving her a full view of the vehicle. Her jaw dropped a little.

Vic had never been one to be drawn to luxury. She didn’t really care about expensive clothes or nice jewelry, didn’t need the latest technology, would pick greasy diner food over gourmet cooking every single day. But cars, cars she liked. And this one was no exception. It was a magnificent convertible Mustang GT with matte black wheels and a deep blue metallic paint that glittered with the artificial light.

An amazed smile slowly formed on her lips as she observed it like it was the most beautiful piece of art in the entire world. Then she turned to Lucas, who was watching her with a boyish grin and a flicker of pride in his eyes.

“Can I drive it?” she asked him, her tone as excited as a child’s on Christmas morning.

“If you know how to drive stick.”

She offered him her most seductive smile and batted her eyelashes. “You could teach me.”

“You want me to teach to drive stick on – my Mustang,” he repeated in a slightly bewildered voice.

Vic close the distance between them and flung her arms around his neck as she gave him her best puppy dog eyes, sticking her lip out for good measure. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

*

* *

The car came to an abrupt stop, and Lucas inhaled sharply through his teeth as Vic stalled the engine for the millionth time in five minutes. They had found an almost empty underground parking not too far from his house and he was now getting her to move the car using only the clutch, so that she could get a better feel of it. That was how Sullivan had taught him to drive a stick shift; Lucas knew better than anyone how hard it was not to stall when you didn’t use the gas pedal. But silently standing by as you watched the engine of your very nice car getting damaged over and over was not easy either.

That, however, was a very small price to pay for the beaming smile that hadn’t left Vic’s face since he’d agreed to teach her how to drive his car. There was little he wouldn’t do for that smile. She was always stunning, with her plump, soft lips, her high cheekbones and her big brown expressive eyes. But, when she smiled, the sparkle in her eyes, the way her face lit up; it was like sunshine, making everything around her brighter, more beautiful. Lucas didn’t think he could ever get tired of her smile.

The engine started again. The car moved. Slowly, very slowly. It jumped. Once, twice. And another abrupt stop. And another sharp intake of breath.

“Would you stop that!” Vic exclaimed, rolling her eyes at him, but her tone was light, and the smile was still there.

“Would stop ruining my car?” he asked wryly.

“Yeah, well, this is what you get for buying a car with a manual transmission,” she replied with a laugh. “Seriously, why would you even do that?”

“I just like shifting gears myself,” he said with a shrug. “And, really, next to firetrucks, this car is a piece of cake.”

She gave him a mocking smirk. “Okay, the only reason you know that is cause you’re a dinosaur. So, stop gloating about it.”

He laughed. She tried it again, stalled again. “Okay, this is impossible; I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Hey, it’s fine. You just started. It’s normal to have a hard time at first. You just have to take it one gear at a time, okay?”

Vic quirked an amused eyebrow at him. “Oooh, is that the kind of little puns you make at your tiny, tiny club of people who are too good to buy automatic cars?”

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “Just – try again. Release the clutch very, very, very slowly. There you go! See, we’re moving. Let’s do that again. Just don’t –” the car stopped with a jump “– forget to press the clutch before you hit the brakes,” he finished with a resigned sigh. She turned to him with a wide, innocent grin and he couldn’t help but smile back, because she was so very cute.

After an hour or so, she could manage well enough to leave the parking lot. They drove around the neighborhood for a while. He made her stop and start often, and she was stalling the engine less and less. Then they went back to the parking garage so she could practice getting the car moving on a slope. That took a while as well, but she eventually got the hang of it. After her tenth successful start in a row, she shot him a bright, excited grin.

“Now can we go for a ride?”

“You’ve been driving for three hours.”

“A _real_ ride,” she said with a dramatical eyeroll. “Like – a small road trip. We could go to Portland.” 

He let out a dumbfounded chuckle. “You wanna go to Portland – right now?” She nodded excitedly. “That’s two and a half hours away.”

“Yeah, two and a half hours driving your beautiful, beautiful car.”

“Five hours,” he corrected. “Counting the drive back here. You really want to spend eight consecutive hours in a car?”

She merely shrugged. “We could always get a hotel room there, drive back tomorrow.”

He thought about it for a second, trying to decide if he could really leave Seattle just like that. He was off duty, but still… What if there was a really big fire? Something of the magnitude of the skyscraper? He’d be expected to show up at the scene. Then again, he was allowed to do what he wanted when he wasn’t on call. His battalion chiefs could run big scenes as well. Besides, if something as big as the skyscraper happened, it wouldn’t be over in two hours – he’d still make it in time to help. And spending a weekend with Vic without having to hide sounded really nice.

Lucas looked at her and smiled, “Portland it is.” She beamed and promptly pulled him down for a passionate kiss that left him breathless. “But I’m picking the music.”

“What? Why?” she said with an exaggerated pout.

“Because I’m not listening to Beyoncé all the way to Portland.”

Her mouth opened in mock indignation. “Insult Queen B one more time and I’m crashing your beautiful, beautiful car.”

Lucas could only laugh as she started the car again. They stopped at his place first, then at hers, to grab what they needed for a night out of town. And apparently, he found out when she came out of her building, the bare necessities included two enormous bags of chips. They bickered playfully about his strict no-snacking-in-the-Mustang rule – she won in the end. Of course, she did, he thought, a bit baffled; he wasn’t sure there was anything he could refuse her when she was just so damn adorable. They bickered again about putting the top down – he said it was way too cold for that, she said they had coats and warm sweaters, so they’d be okay. She won.

He did manage to stand his ground about the music, though. He waited until they were on the freeway to put on his favorite playlist, which ranged from Tchaikovsky and Chopin to Lynyrd Skynyrd and AC/DC. She whooped in delight as the first notes of ‘Come and Get Your Love’ came out of the speakers and turned the volume up so they could hear the music over the wind howling in their ears. Then she started happily singing along with that incredible voice of hers, fingers drumming in rhythm on the steering wheel, and Lucas could only stare at her with an idiotic grin, transfixed by her voice, her beauty, her contagious _joie de vivre_. An annoying little voice in his head whispered that he was being tremendously stupid for letting himself be swept up like this, because their time together would inevitably come to an end; they both knew it. But he shut it out; he couldn’t think about that right now. Right now, she was here, merrily driving his car to Portland, and he was right there with her. With a happy smile, he joined his voice to hers.

*

* *

When they arrived, the day was coming to an end, the gray light slowly turning dark as dusk fell around them. Their lunch having consisted solely of chips, they were both starving. They found a cute little Italian restaurant in the downtown area, where a perky, tall, blonde woman greeted them with a broad smile before showing them to a table next to the window. The interior was cozy and dimly lit. One glance around her told Vic that the restaurant was meant to be a romantic one – it was packed with couples lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes – but she couldn’t bring herself to care. They weren’t in Seattle, they were in Portland, where, for one night, they could forget about all the reasons they would never really be together. For one night, they could pretend to be a couple – there was no harm in only pretending.

She still had some trouble believing how the day had turned out, believing that she was now sitting in a restaurant a hundred miles away from Seattle, which she hardly ever left, just because she’d wanted to take a ride in the amazing car she’d just learned how to drive – and maybe, just maybe, because she’d wanted to sit with Lucas at a nice restaurant and hold his hand over the table without having to worry about running into anyone. This was definitely not how she’d thought her day would turn out, but that only made it better. Not making plans was a lot of fun. Spontaneity did not seem to be Lucas’s strong suit, though. His eyes kept nervously darting to the corner of the table where his phone was laid out, as though he expected it to explode.

“Seriously, babe, you have to relax,” she told him as a waiter arrived with their orders and set them on the table, and, this time, she did not care about the nickname. “You’re not on call. And you sent an e-mail to every battalion chief _and_ every captain to tell them that you were going out of town. I’m sure they can handle twenty-four hours without having you around.”

He smiled apologetically and sighed. “I know, it’s just – I’ve never not been around since I became chief and if something happens while I’m not there…”

“ _If_ something happens,” she cut him off, “they’ll manage until we race back. So, will you please just relax so that I can fully enjoy my weekend far, far away from captain Firegrinch?”

The curious look she received made her realize her slip. She winced. “Right, Fire Chief, I forgot.”

“I’m not the Fire Chief right now, baby,” he said with a warm smile, his thumb lightly rubbing the back of her hand – no, those were not butterflies in her stomach because he’d just called her ‘baby’ outside of bed for the first time. “You can complain about your grinchy boss if you want to. Is he giving you guys a hard time?”

Vic hesitated. She liked talking to him about every part of her life, and she definitely liked complaining about Sullivan. But, no matter what he said, she worried that the concern in his eyes was as much about his department not working as smoothly as he’d like than it was about his whatever-the-hell-she-was not getting along with her boss. And, no matter how much she disliked her captain, she was no tattletale. Again, he seemed to read her thoughts.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, just in case you’re wondering, I’m only asking as Lucas. He won’t tell the Fire Chief, promise.”

“Good thing you have an acute personality disorder,” she said dryly and they both laughed. “And Sullivan’s not that bad, not really. I mean, it _could_ be worse. Andy told me about a misogynistic ass she was teamed up with for the Incinerator; that would definitely have been worse. Sullivan’s just really, really intense. The way he stares at you during line-ups – it’s like his eyes can see into your soul. It’s disturbing. And he frowns, all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. I’m not sure he even knows how to.”

“Oh, he does,” Lucas assured her. “He used to smile a lot. Laughed even more. Before…”

He trailed off, but Vic was pretty sure she knew what he was going to say. “Before his wife died?”

“You know about that?” he asked in genuine surprise.

“Yeah, he told Andy during the windstorm.” Lucas nodded, but didn’t say anything, so she spoke again, “So, you knew him before?”

“I did,” he sighed, and a cloud of sadness fell over his eyes as he absentmindedly stroked his beard. “He – he was my best friend. We got paired up on our first day at the Academy and we just… clicked. After that, we were inseparable. Believe it or not; he was the most joyful person I’d ever met. He was always laughing, stopping me from taking everything so seriously. It was his incessant laughter that got me through my first divorce. He was my best man at my second wedding; laughed at me the whole time because he thought I was making a mistake – he and Eva really didn’t get along. I didn’t speak to him for a month after that, which was when I started to realize that he might have been right. And he just took me to a bar and got me drunk. He was just that kind of friend; the one who isn’t afraid to tell you what you need to hear rather than what you want to hear, and who’s there to pick up the pieces after you didn’t listen to him. Never had a friend like him again.”

He fell silent, eyes glimmering with unshed tears as he relived the memories, and Vic’s heart broke a little. She wanted to ask what had happened between them but was afraid it would only make him sadder. Giving his hand a comforting squeeze, she tried to find the right words. “Friends fight sometimes. I fought with Travis, after the skyscraper. I was mad at him for almost dying. Well, not really for almost dying, but for telling Warren to abandon him and making me find him bleeding out in the stairwell. We had a shouting match in the barn. Sullivan stopped it and told us to go to the group therapy thing. The whole thing was kind of ridiculous; we both realized it. Now we’re good again. Maybe you and Sullivan will patch things up too.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, lips pursed in a resigned expression. “He blames me – for his wife. Sully and I were on the Aid Car that day, got called for a car accident. His wife was one of the victims. I was his lieutenant, ordered him to stand down because he was too close. I performed CPR, but I couldn’t get her back; I had to give her amiodarone to restart her heart. Sully told me not to, because she was allergic to iodine. But I didn’t have a choice. It was either risk it or let her die. I risked it, she died anyway. So, he blames me. For making him stand down, for not listening to him. Said it wasn’t my call to make.”

“But it was a long time ago, right?”

He nodded. “Fifteen years.”

“So, maybe he’s not mad anymore. Just doesn’t know how to let you know?”

Lucas let out a dry laugh and shook his head. “Oh no, he’s still mad. I went to see him at the hospital after the windstorm and he downright accused me of killing his wife so…”

“Well, you never know, it could still happen. Jaime kind of forgave Tyrion for killing their father.”

His laughter was genuine this time. “He did. But I’m pretty sure I remember us agreeing on the fact that it made no sense, when you consider the books.”

“True. But Dany forgiving Jorah Mormont is totally happening.” She gave him a soothing smile and squeezed his hand again. “Don’t – don’t give up on it. Your friendship. Sounds like it’s worth fighting for.”

“Maybe,” he sighed, seemingly pondering her words. There was a short silence before he spoke again, his tone suddenly lighter and a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I mean, I _do_ have to thank him for you apologizing about the skyscraper apparently, so…”

Vic chuckled and rolled her eyes. “I – would have apologized at – some point.”

“Oh, like you apologized for the peer review?”

Her lips stretched into a flirty grin. “So, we’re pretending that that didn’t turn you on, huh?”

“Everything you do turns me on, Victoria,” he whispered huskily as the last hint of sadness vanished from his eyes.

She felt herself blush a little as a broad smile took over her face. “You’re such a smooth talker, aren’t you?”

Lucas shrugged innocently. “I’m – merely stating facts.”

“So am I. Fact; your spaghetti is getting cold, so you better start eating. I’m gonna need you well fed for what I have in store for you tonight.”

His eyes darkened and he smirked at her knowingly before eagerly digging into his plate.

Once they were done eating and the check was signed, they didn’t waste any time driving to the hotel – Lucas had booked a last-minute room on their way to Portland. The last half-hour of their meal had been about nothing but them teasing each other with as much subtlety as a bull in a china shop, and they were both very ready to take each other’s clothes off. And they did. He took her against the door first, then in the shower, then on the bed. By the time Vic fell asleep in his strong, warm arms, she had lost count of how many times he’d made her come, around his fingers, his tongue, his cock. As always, mind-blowing, toe-curling, out-of-this-world sex. Yet, something had been different, especially on their last round. It had been slower, more sensual. They’d taken their time exploring each other’s bodies. Her skin was still tingling with the soft kisses he had pressed against every inch of her, cherishing her, revering her, worshipping her. When they’d climaxed together, there had been something mingling with the lust shining in his impossibly blue eyes, something Vic knew had been reflected in her own eyes.

In the morning, she would be back to lying to herself, to convince herself that there hadn’t been anything but want and desire. But, now, she was drifting into a peaceful sleep with Lucas curled around her, his short beard scraping against the back of her neck and one arm wrapped around her waist, feeling safer than she’d ever had, as though nothing could ever happen to her as long as she was in Lucas’s arms, and, just for a little while, it didn’t seem like that something was to be feared – quite the opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Thanks to everyone for your support; it's very heartwarming and makes me smile a lot. 
> 
> Couple of side-notes:
> 
> 1° It has nothing to do with this chapter but I kinda had some trouble with the notes of the 1st chapter, because I realized when I put the 2nd chapter up that what I'd written at the end of the 1st chapter was actually an end-note to the whole story so I erased it and I didn't put it back as end-note to the 1st chapter because, well, "flemme", as we say in French, and ANYWAY, for those who didn't get to read the notes I erased: Gibson doesn't know, in case you were wondering.
> 
> 2° Doesn't really concern this chapter either, because it is by far the less smutty one but I wanted to say it after the 1st chapter and then I forgot and same thing for the 2nd chapter so I'll say it now: I do not condone unprotected sex, but I ain't no E.L. James and I just can't write condoms without it being awkward or cringe-worthy so... let's go with Vic's on the pill and STD don't exist :) 
> 
> Also, I would like to apologize for my excessive rambling - as I said, imploding mind. I'm going crazy.


	4. Thinking of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic needs advice from her best friend

The deafening noise of the vacuum cleaner was the only thing to be heard in Vic’s apartment as she cleaned it thoroughly. Over it was the even more deafening sound of the music blasting through her headphones. She would not have heard an elephant break down her front door. And yet, it seemed that no sound was loud enough to drown her thoughts. Unbidden, Lucas kept popping into her mind; the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he laughed; the emotion in his deep, low voice when he read her his favorite poems as she sat on his lap in his library, head resting on his shoulder; the comfort of his arms when he held her after sex, or after a bad shift, or sometimes for no reason at all; the twinkle in his eyes when he was amused; his smile, so warm and charming; the feeling of his lips against her skin; the way he’d look at her sometimes, his gaze so intense that she’d forget how to breathe, her mind drowning in a sea of blue while her body was being set on fire.

Except for when she was on a call, with every fiber of her being focused on what she was doing, Lucas never really left her thoughts. Sometimes, like when she was spending time with her friends, it was only as a shadow lurking in the back of her mind, showing itself for a second before disappearing again; other times, like now, it was a presence that overpowered everything else.

And no matter how pleasant all those memories were, the fact that Vic could not stop thinking about the chief of the Seattle Fire Department was a problem. But, not nearly as big a problem as the fact that, when he wasn’t with her, she would actually miss him. The feelings she’d been fighting for two months now were getting harder and harder to deny; she liked Lucas. A lot. Too much.

Too much because they were going to end; they couldn’t stay in this secret relationship forever, and they could never not be a secret, not without both losing their jobs. They did not have a future – that was the unspoken agreement from the very beginning; that was why they never talked about what they were doing, what it meant, where it was leading. “Nothing” and “Nowhere” were the only possible answers.

And now, Vic was thinking about him, missing him, liking him. And she didn’t know what to do about it.

She cleaned and cleaned until there was nothing left to clean, but the thoughts wouldn’t go away. When she was done, she turned on Netflix, but even Friends wasn’t enough to distract her. After an hour of not paying any attention to what was happening on the screen, she turned the TV off and abruptly got off her couch before grabbing her coat and bag and rushing out the door. She needed to talk to Travis.

*

* *

Vic pounded on the door for a couple of minutes before it opened. Her best friend’s freckled face scrunched in confusion as his gaze landed on her.

“Vic?” he said in a drowsy voice, rubbing a hand over his eyes before running it into his tousled, brown hair – he had clearly just woken up. “What are you doing here?”

“How are you still sleeping?” she asked in disbelief as she walked past him and into his apartment. “It’s three in the afternoon and we had _zero_ calls last night.”

“I was _napping_ ,” he corrected as he closed the door and followed her to the living room. “And having a very pleasant dream about Jason Momoa. So, you better have a very good reason for interrupting that.”

Vic plopped into the couch. “Okay, first, I’m telling Grant you’re dream-cheating on him.” He shot her an expression of feigned amusement as he sat down next to her. “And second, I do have a good reason. I need your advice on something.”

“Okay,” he said as he folded one leg under him and angled his body toward her, arm resting on the back of the couch. “I’m listening.”

She mirrored his position before she started, “Right, okay, so… you know the guy you were asking me about at Friendsgiving?”

Travis’s eyes started shining with a humorous glint she didn’t understand. “Oh, you mean the mysterious bank buddy you’ve been seeing for the past two months and who is totally not Mayhorn?”

That took her completely by surprise. “You _know_?”

“Kinda hard to miss, Vic,” he said with a mocking grin. “Not only have you been swaggering all over the place, but you’ve also been smiling an – unusual amount. And not your usual I’m-a-happy-person kind of smile, it’s more of a wide, goofy I’m-a-schoolgirl-with-a-crush smile. It’s cute. Kind of sickening but –”

“Oh, please!” she cut him off, rolling her eyes. “I do _not_ smile like that.” Did she? That would be pathetic.

He scoffed. “You _do_. That’s how I figured it wasn’t Mayhorn; no way _he_ would have you smiling like that.”

Even though she was mortified that she’d apparently been acting like a silly fifteen-year-old, Vic couldn’t help the small, affectionate smile that formed on her lips at the realization of how well Travis knew her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He merely shrugged. “Just figured that if you’d wanted me to know, you’d have told me.” Vic’s heart swelled at that; he really was the best friend anyone could wish for. “I mean, if you’d been miserable, I would totally have cornered you about it but… whoever this guy is, he seems to make you really happy, so there was no reason for me to ask.”

“Besides your undying nosiness, you mean?” she asked with a grin, and they both laughed.

“So, what do you my advice for?” he enquired after a short silence. “Is your bank buddy not making you happy anymore?”

“No, he – is,” Vic answered slowly, fingers nervously rubbing her forehead. “That’s, uh, that’s kind of the problem, actually.”

Travis frowned. “I’m confused.”

She briefly closed her eyes and exhaled loudly before opening them again. This was the hard part, where she’d have to make him understand the predicament that she was in without telling him who Lucas was.

“Okay, look, here’s the thing. When we started – going to the bank” – maybe a metaphor was the way to go, she thought – “we knew that the bank was not going to stay open. Because it couldn’t. It still can’t. But now I like him a lot, I think, and I don’t really want the – bank to – close. Because the sex, oh my God, Trav, it’s, _so_ good. And also, the talking. And he’s sweet, and funny, and smart, and – did – did I mention how much like him?”

When she stopped rambling and took a much-needed breath, a wince of puzzlement was wrinkling her best friend’s face. “I’m even more confused. Why does the bank have to close?”

Vic didn’t have the time to rack her brain in search of a suitable explanation; both of their phones chimed at the same time. They shared a concerned glance and took a look at their screens.

“Fuck.” The word was whispered simultaneously right before they both jumped to their feet.

*

* *

Five-alarm fires meant every available firefighter in the city getting called in. _Just like the skyscraper fire where I almost bled to death_ , Travis thought glumly. Except that this fire was even more impressive. The thick, black cloud of smoke that came out of the manufacturing plant could be seen from miles and miles away. And, on the scene itself, chaos ruled. There were firefighters everywhere, some going in, some coming out. Gurneys were rolling, people were screaming, alarms were blaring. Tall, menacing flames rose up in the sky, their hypnotizing dance an unspoken challenge to come and fight them. A challenge Travis, like every single person at 19, was eager to accept.

“19!” a voice boomed on their left as soon as they were out of the trucks. It was Ripley. He had his white helmet on, his turnout vest opened on a shirt that was now more gray than white, ash and dust had turned his face a grayish color as well. He looked positively exhausted. Though his stern, authoritarian voice was as strong as ever.

“Listen up,” the chief said as they gathered around him. “We’ve been battling this since morning; fire’s now thirty percent contained. There are no civilians left in the plant as far as we know, but we don’t have the exact numbers of the workers that were inside, so keep an eye out.” He didn’t have to say for what – they all knew there were no _alive_ civilians still inside. “I need you on the D-side; you’ll be reporting to Battalion Chief Frankel. The building is full of explosive components. You do not take unnecessary risks. You do not play the hero. You obey your commanding officer. You come up for air; I don’t want anyone exposed to the smoke and debris for too long.”

“Yes, sir,” they all chorused.

“And – be careful,” he added in a strangely thick voice. 

Travis thought he saw a flicker of fear cross the chief’s features as his gaze intently landed on Vic, but then Ripley was bossily clapping his hands and his expression was back to one of stone, and he figured he must have dreamt it.

They ran to the D-side, where Frankel started barking orders at Sullivan, who in turn gave them their instructions in that calm, emotionless, scary voice of his. Travis was paired up with Vic. They shared a determined smile and went in.

*

* *

It wasn’t until the next morning that Vic and Travis slumped back into his apartment – she’d driven him back, and he invited her to stay for a drink, or many. They both knew they weren’t going to sleep; they were in that weird state of physical exhaustion but complete mental alertness that made sleep impossible. He let her take a shower first, then left her in his living room as he took his turn. He stayed in a bit longer than usual, letting the water cleanse the dirt, the dust, the ash, and the smell of burnt bodies – they’d found seven of them during overhaul.

He quickly put on some sweatpants and one of his crew shirts before heading back to his living room. Vic was on the phone as he entered, sitting on the couch with her back turned to him, and didn’t hear him.

“Oh my God, seriously, babe, I’m fine,” she said with an exasperated sigh, but Travis could hear the smile in her voice, and he couldn’t help but smile himself, because Vic’s bank buddy was calling worrying about her and she was calling him ‘babe’ and it warmed his hopeless romantic heart.

“Yes, I got checked.”

“…"

“Yes, after overhaul as well.”

“…”

“Lucas, you left two hours before I did. You saw me. I was fine. I’m still fine.”

Bank buddy’s name was Lucas, then. And he was a firefighter too, apparently.

“What about you?”

“…”

“Really?” her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Fire Chief? I had no idea.”

_What is she talking about now?_ Travis wondered.

“And just because your job consists in ordering all of us around doesn’t mean…”

He didn’t hear the rest; he’d stopped listening as all the dots connected to form an inconceivable line in his mind. The secrecy, the complicatedness, Ripley’s first name, his voice when he had told them to be careful, the look he’d given Vic, the way they’d laughed together the day of the windstorm…

_Oh, my fucking God._

*

* *

“Your bank buddy’s the _chief_?”

Vic barely had the time to hang up before Travis’s high-pitched flabbergasted voice rang in the air, making her heart jump in her chest, though she couldn’t say if it was in surprise or in panic. She shifted on the couch and turned her head towards him.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that her best friend had just stumbled on the biggest, most scandalous secret Vic had ever had, tears of laughter would be rolling down her cheeks; Travis was standing in the frame of the door, hair still dripping from his shower, hands frozen in the air and an expression of utter astonishment on his face, wide-eyed and mouth agape, like he’d just discovered that… well, that his best friend was having sex with the chief of the Seattle Fire Department.

“Maybe?” she murmured sheepishly – there was no denying it now.

“But… How – What – When – Who – _How_?”

A short laugh did escape Vic this time.

“Oh, you think this is funny?!” he exclaimed in an indignant tone. “This is not funny! He’s the chief. Did he – Vic, is he taking advantage of you?”

“No,” she instantly replied, her tone soft but firm, “he’s not. Lucas – I mean, Ripley – is not like that, okay? He’s sweet and considerate and – he’s a good man, Trav, I swear.”

Travis shot her a dubious look. “Right, so good that he sleeps with his subordinates?”

“Subordin _ate_ ,” she corrected, getting a bit irritated herself. “I’m the only firefighter he ever…” she trailed off.

“That you know of! How do you know that’s not a thing he does, huh? Maybe he just picks a different firefighter every year to sexually harass!”

“Okay, Trav, that’s – enough,” Vic said, waving her hand in the air to get him to stop talking. She was keeping her voice calm, though not bothering to hide the anger that was seeping through it. “He’s not harassing me, sexually or otherwise. I’m a grown-ass woman who can make my own fucking decisions. And I _chose_ to start something with Lucas – Ripley. It was a mutual, consensual decision, and I don’t regret it. Not for a second. And I know there have been no other subordinates – or firefighter for that matter – because he _told_ me.” She saw him open his mouth but cut him off before he could speak. “And before you start telling me that he could’ve been lying well… yeah, he could’ve, but he wasn’t. I just know. He’s just _not_ that kind of guy.”

He didn’t say anything, content to keep squinting suspicious eyes at her.

She rolled her eyes in frustration. “Look, why don’t you come sit down so that I can tell you – everything. And _then_ you can make up your mind about him, alright?”

“Fine,” he said with an irked huff.

He sat next to her with exaggerated force – clearly wanting to demonstrate his state of discontent with the slightly louder-than-usual plopping sound of the couch – then crossed his arms and quirked an expectant eyebrow at her. Vic had to fight off a chuckle; he could be so very childish sometimes.

“Thank you,” she said, then took a deep breath before beginning her story.

She told him everything. She told him how it started, with the flirting about the spice and the cake that had led up to her inviting Lucas to her place. She told him about their discussion over coffee; the ground rules, his fear that he was unwittingly taking advantage of her – Vic heavily insisted on that one. She told him about the earth-shattering sex, of course, though without going too much into the details – Lucas _was_ Travis’s boss, after all. She also told him about them spending more and more time together; how they talked and talked about everything and nothing; how Lucas made her want to open up; how he could always find the right words to comfort her; how caring, smart, charmingly dorky, funny, sweet and interesting he was. She told him about Lucas’s house; how he’d sometimes read to her in his library. She told him about the Mustang, and their road trip to Portland, their amazing weekend there. She told him about that day when they’d decided to bake a cake and ended up throwing flour at each other like they were five-year-old children. She told him about how they would sometimes cuddle in the couch in silence, not doing anything but relish each other’s embrace.

Travis just listened, his disgruntled expression slowly giving way to a silly grin that went from ear to ear.

“Wow,” he said when Vic was finally done. “You two sound – really cute. I’m sorry, for what I said. I mean, I still feel weird about the fact that you’re dating the chief but, you know, from what you’ve just told me, it’s pretty clear that he likes you and that he’s not forcing you to do anything so… You have my blessing.”

Vic rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks, Trav. That’s not condescending at all.” 

“Hey!” he exclaimed in feigned offense. “I’m doing my best to wrap my head around the fact that you and the _Fire Chief_ get naked and sweaty together. You could show _some_ gratitude.”

She chuckled. “I know, and that’s very nice. But,” she sighed heavily, “you don’t actually have to. Wrap you head around it, I mean. As I said, the – the bank is closing so…” She trailed off with a shrug and a resigned smile.

Travis said a comforting hand on her forearm. “Are you sure it has to?”

“Yeah. I like him and all but, definitely not enough to lose my job. Doesn’t matter what I feel for him, he’s just a guy. _You_ guys are my family. I’m not giving that up. And we can’t stay a secret forever. Sneaking around and everything is fun but, eventually, it’s gonna get old.”

He nodded, and there was pregnant pause before he replied, “Still want my advice?”

“Well, that’s what I came for yesterday, so, yeah.”

“You like him. And he probably likes you just as much. So, I get that you don’t want the bank to close but… the more time you spend with him, the harder it’s gonna be when it does close. So… maybe you should end it now.”

“Maybe,” she said with a wistful nod. “Then again, I don’t see why I’d deprive myself from fun trips to the bank when I don’t have to. I mean, it’s gonna close at some point, yes, because he’ll meet someone that he can have an actual relationship with, or I’ll meet someone, or one of us is going to get tired of the secrets, or… something. But, why can’t I just enjoy nice moments with him until that happens?”

“ _Because_ ,” Travis said in an admonishing tone, “you’re going to be even more sad when the bank closes. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Come on, I won’t be _hurt_ ,” she corrected in a resolute tone, shutting out the voice that told her that that was a blatant lie. “I’ll just be a little bummed out. But I’ll get over it. Whether it’s now, or in week, or in a month. So, really, I think I’ll keep going to the bank until it has to close.” 

Travis shook his head and waved his hands in the air in an incredulous gesture. “Why? Why do come here just to ask for my advice and then ignore it?”

“Hmm, because it’s bad advice?” she said with a mocking grin, earning an eyeroll from him.

The truth was, she knew that Travis was right. The sensible thing would be to end it with Lucas now, before her feelings for him grew even more. But she wasn’t ready for it to end; she wasn’t sure she would ever be ready.

She couldn’t admit that, however, not even to herself – especially not to herself. So, she was back to square one: bury her feelings deep down and pretend that she was happy to have fun with Lucas until she couldn’t anymore, and that she’d be perfectly fine when it eventually ended.

She could tell that Travis wanted to say something more, to make her realize that not listening to him was a bad idea. She changed the subject before he could do any of that.

“Anyway, how are things going with Grant?”

Her best friend’s face lit up at that and he started happily yapping about how great their relationship was. Travis opened a bottle of vodka after that, and they fell into their usual, crazy conversations, allowing Vic to forget about Lucas for a while.

*

* *

Lucas got up from his chair to walk the two gentlemen in suits to the door of his office. He opened it, offered them one of his fake, charming smiles for the billionth time as he assured them, again, that, yes, he understood what they were asking of him. He then shook their hands and, finally, finally they were out of his office.

He went back to his desk and sat down on his comfortable chair with a heavy sigh. He’d spent most of the previous day fighting a massive fire. It had been exhausting, both physically and mentally. It had been hours and hours of heat, and ash, and smoke, and fearing for his firefighter’s lives. But Lucas was still pretty sure he’d rather relive that a thousand times than spend another minute with those PR representatives. He had nothing against them personally. What they’d just told him, however, had filled him with a sense of dread that he couldn’t shake – Lucas had the sneaky feeling that Vic was not going to take this well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely not my favorite chapter so far, but, well, I hope you still enjoyed it! 
> 
> I need to clear timing up, because, for some reason, I thought Thanksgiving period was in October. I have just now learned that it isn't. But, you know, let's all pretend that it is, because I need this chapter (and the next) to happen around mid-December (you'll get why). 
> 
> Also, angst is coming soon!


	5. Nothing Lasts Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic and Ripley have to talk about their relationship

When she got back home, Vic took another shower to rinse away the drowsiness of the six-hour nap she’d taken on Travis’s couch after their two drinks each had made the exhaustion finally reach their minds. Her thoughts drifted to the conversation they’d had this morning. Part of her was glad that Travis knew about her and Lucas, because she wouldn’t have to lie to her best friend anymore, and because there now was someone she could talk to, and that felt really good – even if she was deliberately ignoring his advice. But she also felt a little guilty because, even though she hadn’t exactly _told_ Travis, it was still partly her fault that he knew – not making absolutely sure that she was out of earshot during her phone call with Lucas had not been her smartest move.

The question now was, should she tell Lucas? It felt wrong not to; he had the right to know that someone had found out about them, since that technically meant that the risks of their secret relationship being discovered had increased, and along with it the risks of them losing their jobs. But Vic had no doubt whatsoever that Travis would keep his mouth shut. So, a point could be made that, risk-wise, nothing had changed.

Vic shook her head under the water. That didn’t matter; she still had to tell him. She just didn’t want to. What if it made him believe that preventing more people from finding out was impossible? What if it made him reconsider the whole thing?

_Get a grip_ , she scolded herself as panic began rising in her chest. If that happened, she would be fine. Sure, she would be a little disappointed, because it would mean no more mind-blowing sex. And, yes, she would miss spending time with him. But only at first. Three days, maybe a week. Then she’d be completely over it, over him. No problem at all. She would be fine.

That was what she told herself as she got out of the shower and dried herself, then again as she chose her outfit for the evening – black, high-waist jeans and a sleeveless, light purple blouse –, as she did her hair and put on a light touch of makeup, as she set the table; by the time she had nothing to do but wait for Lucas to arrive, she’d repeated it enough times for her to be able to pretend that she believed it. She would tell him as soon as he got here, and if he wanted to end things after that, she’d be fine. Everything would be just fine.

She checked her watch. Five past six; Lucas shouldn’t be long now – when they’d talked earlier, he said he would come straight from work. Vic decided to kill time with _A Game of Thrones_ (talking about it with Lucas had made her want to read it again). She grabbed it from her nightstand, walked to her living room, and laid back on her couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. Her progress was marked by a small piece of paper sticking out between the pages. Vic couldn’t hold back a silly smile as she opened the book and took the makeshift bookmark between her thumb and forefinger. It was Lucas who’d put it there one morning two weeks ago. He’d teased her the night before about how she could simply use a bookmark instead of spending five minutes trying to find the right page, to which she’d answered that the only reason he needed a bookmark was because he was too old to remember the page number, and then they’d playfully squabbled for a few minutes before Vic had closed the matter by saying that, since she didn’t have one, the point was moot anyway. When she woke up the next morning, a piece of paper had been randomly tucked in her book. She’d taken it out and unfolded it to find Lucas’s scrawny handwriting inside.

_"There, now you have one. Make good use of it, it’s very precious – it took me all of two seconds to rip it out of my notepad._

_Enjoy your shiny new time-saver, baby. I’ll see you tonight._

_P.S.: Sorry I have to leave so early – another boring meeting, as you call them. I’ll just have to distract myself with thoughts of how beautiful you are._

_P.P.S.: And funny, smart, adorable, sexy as hell, brave, contagiously happy, and so many other qualities I lack the words to do justice to."_

Much as she was doing now as she read the words again, Vic had shaken her head and rolled her eyes at how dorky and cheesy he could be, though the huge, irrepressible, stupidly happy grin that had found its way to her lips had betrayed how cute and lov- likeable she found him.

Two soft knocks tore her away from the blissful memory. It was Lucas, unsurprisingly. He’d changed at HQ, apparently, and was now wearing jeans and a grey sweater.

“Hey, babe,” she greeted, standing on her tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Hey.” He sounded weird.

“You okay?” she asked in a concerned tone as she stepped back to let him in, then closed the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I just, uh – there’s something I have to talk to you about.”

A tinge of fear spiked her chest. Those words usually didn’t mean anything good, especially when the person who uttered them was clearly avoiding your gaze.

“Sounds… ominous. What’s going on?”

Lucas ran a nervous hand through his hair and exhaled loudly, his eyes still not meeting hers. “The department wants me to bring a date to the New Year’s Eve firefighter ball.”

For half a second, Vic thought that he meant her, that he’d found a way for them to be together for real without hurting their careers, that he was asking if she would date him in broad daylight. But then he finally looked at her, his blue eyes apologetic and scared, and she understood that he absolutely did not mean her. Of course, he didn’t. It had been so very stupid to believe otherwise.

“Oh,” was the only thing she could think of saying as her heart dropped to her stomach.

“I’m sorry. It’s a PR thing. They think that if I go alone, it sends the wrong message. Makes it seem like firefighters can’t have a family life.”

“Right, yeah, I – I get it. It’s totally fine, really. I mean, why – why would it me bother me? You’re just asking me to watch my – to watch you spend an entire night with someone else. And kiss them at midnight, I’m guessing?” He dropped his gaze. “Well, that’s just fucking fantastic, isn’t it?” she added with a bitter smile.

“What do you want me to do here, Vic?” he asked, hands thrown in the air in a helpless gesture. “I don’t have a choice.”

She scoffed in disbelief. “Right, of course, you don’t. It’s not like you’re the chief or anything.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have to answer to some people! I – I have a responsibility. To this department. And I think it’s stupid that things like that matter. But I can’t the change the fact that they do. So, no, I _don’t_ have a choice.”

He took a deep breath before adding in a much softer voice. “Vic, you know I would take you if I could but…”

“But you can’t,” she finished resentfully as angry tears began stinging her eyes. “So, who are taking? I mean, the ball’s only two weeks away so, surely you must have someone in mind, right? Maybe someone you’re fucking when _I_ ’m not available.”

The hurt that took over his features made her instantly regret her words. It was a low blow. She knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, even though they hadn’t talked about it. And, in truth, she had no right to be mad, not really. She hated the idea of him spending New Year’s Eve with another woman; laughing with her, dancing with her, kissing her at midnight. Especially when she was going to be there to witness all of it. But it wasn’t Lucas’s fault that he couldn’t take her as his date.

She sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry. That – that was unfair. It’s just…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish.

“I get it,” he murmured with a sigh as he took as step closer to her and brought one hand to the side of her face, his thumb lightly brushing over her cheekbone. “I wouldn’t be too happy to be forced to watch you with another man, either.”

“Yeah, well, it’s just one night, right?” she said with a small smile. “I’ll just – close my eyes at midnight. Kiss Travis.”

Lucas chuckled softly before his expression got serious again. Serious and sad. “You know it’s not just one night, though. Things like this – they’re gonna keep happening.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied in a resigned tone, dropping her gaze.

The hand on her cheek moved under her chin, gently making her tilt her head up to meet his eyes. His magnificent blue eyes full of unshed tears as they stared into hers, so incredibly sad. Vic felt tears of her own form at the corners of her eyes, on the verge of falling. Because she knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth.

“Maybe,” he started hesitantly, his voice a thick, poignant whisper. “Maybe we should call it, Vic. We both know we’re going to have to, at some point. Maybe we should do it now. Before it gets too serious.”

She knew, and yet it still hurt. A lot. It felt like a hand had circled around her heart and was squeezing it, tighter and tighter, until it shattered. A lone tear ran down her cheek as she nodded. Lucas gently wiped it away.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he murmured in a strangled voice, and more tears left her eyes. “Please don’t cry. It’s better this way. Easier to snuff out a spark than a fire, right?”

“Really, Lucas?” she said with a weak laugh. “A fire metaphor? You don’t have anything more original than that?”

“Hmm, easier to uproot a tree before it’s fully grown?” he offered, and they shared a laugh before the thick atmosphere fell around them again.

They simply stared at each other in silence for a while, his fingers stroking her cheek, a sad smile on their lips.

“Let’s uproot, then,” Vic eventually said.

Lucas nodded wistfully. “Let’s,” he murmured before leaning in, and their lips met for one last kiss charged with everything that they couldn’t put into words.

She watched him walk back to the door without a word as a lump formed in her throat. He stopped with his hand on the handle, turned around to face her, and gave her heartbreaking smile. “I’ll miss you, Victoria.”

Vic opened her mouth, but the words got caught in her throat; she could only nod and smile back. The door opened. The door closed. And Lucas was gone. Forever. The next time she saw him, he would be Chief Ripley again.

A flood of tears began streaming down her cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short, very depressing chapter. I'm sorry about that.


	6. That's What Friends Are For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travis wants to make Ripley suffer and 19 comes up with a plan that has unforeseen consequences. And other stuff, too.

Lucas didn’t sleep well that night. Or, at all, really. Vic would not leave his thoughts long enough for sleep to find him. He could hardly believe what he’d just done. He hadn’t gone to Vic’s with the intention to end it at all. On the contrary, he’d spent the entire afternoon praying that _she_ wouldn’t end things when he told her. But when they started talking, he knew that he didn’t have a choice, because the situation was already hurting them both, and it would only have gotten worse. Walking away tonight had been incredibly difficult; but walking away tomorrow would have been even harder. He’d done the reasonable thing; he knew that. Down the line, he’d be grateful that he’d been strong enough to do it. But right now, he was definitely not grateful.

Right now, he was hurting, because he would never get to kiss Vic again, to hold her in his arms, to even call her by her first name. And he was pissed. At himself, for starting something with her in the first place. At the department, for asking him to bring a date to that fucking ball and forcing him to acknowledge the truth of his relationship with Vic. At the universe, for making him like someone he could never be with so much.

He tossed and turned all night long, unable to do anything but think about Vic and hope that morning wasn’t too far away. Morning didn’t offer any solace, though. It was Saturday, which meant he wouldn’t be able to distract himself with work, and Jen, Liam (her husband) and the kids were visiting Liam’s parents in San Francisco this weekend. For the first time since he became chief, Lucas resented what the job had done to his social life.

He’d never had many friends; he was a geek in high school long before being a geek was even remotely cool and, in college, between studying, working and taking care of Jen, he hadn’t had time for friends. The only real friend he’d ever had, he’d lost. So, when his colleagues had slowly stopped hanging out with him as he’d moved up the ranks, it hadn’t exactly bothered him. Now, though, he really wished he had someone he could talk to, spend the day with, someone that would help him feel just a little bit better, like Sullivan had done after his first divorce. In this moment, he missed his old friend more than ever.

He tried reading but couldn’t focus long enough to understand a full sentence. He watched some TV for a while but, again, his mind kept drifting to Vic. He went for a two-hour run, hoping it would clear his mind; it only got him more riled up. After a quick shower, he decided to head to the office anyway; there was never a shortage of paperwork to keep his mind busy. It worked for a few hours, until he started reviewing Station 23’s monthly stats, which were only getting worse. That sent him right back to Vic yelling at him during her peer review, when he’d witnessed her strength of character for the first time, her loyalty to her friends, to her station, her lack of fear to speak her mind, even to him, her passion, her fire. That was when he’d first become attracted to her, even though he hadn’t admitted it to himself at the time. He’d never met someone like her; she was a force of nature, hypnotizing, mesmerizing. From that moment on, he’d been pulled towards her by a force he couldn’t explain and hadn’t been able to resist. But of course, the one person for whom he’d felt something since Eva had to be one of his firefighters.

_How the universe must be laughing now_ , Lucas thought bitterly before he stood up, his chair scraping hard along the floor of his office. He was done with paperwork, now. He needed to hit something.

*

* *

Andy had been telling Robert two things for the past couple of months, since they started becoming friends after the windstorm: that sometimes you just had to trust the universe, and that he needed to make some friends, starting with Luke, because he couldn’t spend all his free time making smoothies. So, when Robert walked into a gym he’d randomly chosen after finding out that his usual gym was closed for renovations to find his former best friend frantically hitting a punching bag like it was the one thing he hated the most in this world, it was hard not to see it as a cosmic message that he should try and mend their friendship.

He had barely spoken to Rip since their conversation at the hospital; only short words during their monthly meetings where Luke had kept a cool, polite tone all the while glaring at him the whole time. Robert knew he’d deserved it; it had taken fifteen years and a couple of conversations with Andy – to whom he was oddly keen to open up – but he could now admit that Luke had played no part in Claire’s death, that he’d only blamed him because it was easier to be angry than to allow himself to fully feel the loss of his wife, and that looking him dead in the eye and telling him that he was the one who killed her had been cruel. Admitting all that was one thing; finding the strength to apologize was another. But Luke clearly needed a friend right now, and, after fifteen years of unfairly being mad at him, Robert had no choice but to offer him one.

Luke was so enthralled in madly delivering angry punches that he didn’t notice Robert until the latter stopped next to the punching bag. Gloved hands froze in the air as a fuming blue gaze landed on him.

“Here to tell me that I killed your wife again, Sullivan? ‘Cause I’m not in the mood,” he growled.

“I can see that,” Robert replied with an almost imperceptible lopsided smile. “Need a sparring partner?”

Ripley just stared at him suspiciously for a moment, gauging him, then his gaze softened ever so slightly, and he nodded as the shadow of a smile appeared on his face. “Wouldn’t mind one.”

They shared a look. One look that silently screamed all the things left unsaid – it told the apologies, the forgiveness, how much they’d missed each other and were more than ready to move past everything and just be friends again. One look that they both understood. And, just like that, the veil that had hung between them for the past fifteen years lifted. They shared a smile; genuine, warm, happy. They had finally found each other again.

Robert’s hand affectionately landed on his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll go and gear up.”

*

* *

The bartender put another two beers in front of them. It was Robert’s second, and Luke’s fourth, and probably not his last, given that he was watching the glass he’d just been served like it was the Holy Grail. It had been Robert who’d offered that they go for a drink after their sparring session, knowing his friend needed it, though he had forgotten just how much the man could drink when he had girl trouble – it hadn’t taken Robert long to understand that that was what the angry punching had been about.

“You do know that beer’s not gonna help you with whatever problems you have with that woman of yours, right?” he said in a mocking tone as he slightly shifted on the barstool, earning a surprised glance from his friend. Robert smirked smugly. “Come on, man, you think I don’t remember what a heartbroken Luke looks like? Wanna talk about it? Maybe I could help.”

Rip took another sip and shook his head with a mirthless chuckle. “Unless you can change the SFD policy…”

Robert almost chocked on his beer; that was definitely unexpected. He shot him a reprimanding stare. “You’re seeing someone in the department?”

“Was; we ended it last night,” he murmured with evident sadness, eyes fixed on his glass as he brought it up to his lips and gulped half of it down. “Decided it was better to stop it now, before one of us got hurt.”

_Oh, yeah, you don’t seem hurt at all_ , Robert thought dryly, though he knew better than to say it out loud.

“You know,” Luke went on glumly, “uproot the tree when it’s still small.”

Robert snorted. “That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard, man.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to go with snuffing out a spark before it became a fire but V-” he paused abruptly, for which Robert was very thankful – he did not want to know who she was. “But she thought it was unoriginal, so… Here we are. And why is everyone so focused on the metaphors, anyway?”

“You’re right,” he replied, offering him one of his best thin, humorless, terrifying smiles. “What I _should_ be focusing on right now is kicking your ass for being a damn fool. You’re the chief, Luke. What were you thinking?”

Luke ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I – I don’t know. It just – happened. She’s amazing, Sully. She’s smart, and witty, and so full of life and joy, and… I – I didn’t know how to resist.”

The warmth and affection in his friend’s voice as he said those words mirrored the – unfortunately – unmistakable glint in his eyes.

_He’s in love with her_.

Robert had to refrain from pinching the bridge of his nose in helpless frustration. Instead, he patted him on the back.

“Okay, look, what happened, happened. The important thing is that it’s not happening anymore. And I’m sure deciding to… uproot wasn’t easy. But it was the right decision. Besides, I’m back in your life now. And I helped you get through a divorce – _that_ was a pretty big tree, right?”

Rip let out a short laugh. “Yeah, it was. I’m glad to have you back, man.”

“Three and a half beers and you’re already at the stage of drunken love declarations?” he deadpanned. “You don’t hold your alcohol as well as you used to.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he answered with a malicious smirk before downing the rest of his beer and ordering another.

Robert could only roll his eyes and chuckle as he clinked his glass with Luke’s freshly filled one, silently thanking the universe for making him mend their friendship in time for him to help Luke get over the person he’d very stupidly fallen in love with before it could cost him his job, or hers.

*

* *

They were almost done with breakfast when Sullivan called them for line-up. The room rang with a chorus of groans, in which Andy did not partake, Travis noticed, though he did not know if it was because finally having her cast taken off the day before had put her in such a good mood that nothing could ruin it, or because her new friendship with the captain had made her reconsider the pointlessness of line-ups. He didn’t have the time to ponder on that, however, as Andy’s motives suddenly became very unimportant next to the sight that welcomed him when he walked into the barn; next to Sullivan stood the tall, blond, bearded man whose name had made Travis’s list of the people he hated the most a few days ago, when a miserable-looking Vic had showed up on his doorstep and glumly announced that the bank had closed, her voice quivering and tears welling up in her already puffy eyes. She’d quickly told him the story about the mandatory date for New Year’s Eve and the conversation that it had prompted, a small sob interrupting her every now and then. She had let him hug her for a minute when she was done, before pulling away and resolutely wiping her eyes, saying that she was done crying now and that they really should finish the bottle of vodka they’d opened in the morning. Ripley hadn’t been mentioned again until the next day, when he’d asked Vic how she was doing, to which she replied that she would get over it in no time. Travis wasn’t so sure that it was true; he’d never seen his best friend so heartbroken over a guy. Seeing her like that had broken his own heart. Vic was amazing; pure of heart, full of joy and laughter, genuinely kind and caring, always looking out for people, brave, fierce, loving. Any person who hurt her deserved to die a thousand deaths.

And yet, here he was, the man who’d made her cry, standing as tall as ever as he sternly watched them form a line in front of the firetruck, clearly not having died one time, much less a thousand. Travis briefly glanced towards the other end of the row, where Vic was very intently staring at Sullivan, jaw locked in a resolute expression as she was clearly forcing her gaze not to dart toward Ripley, then glared at the chief with all the hate he could muster as the captain started talking.

“Before I proceed with uniform inspection, Chief Ripley has an announcement to make. I have no doubt that it will make all of you very happy, but no cheers, whoops or anything of the sort will be allowed until line-up is over. Got it?” They all nodded. “Good.” Sullivan turned back to Ripley. “They’re all yours, chief.”

“Thank you, Sullivan,” Ripley said before taking a step forward. “First, Herrera; welcome back to active duty.”

“Thank you, chief,” Andy answered with a polite smile.

Ripley nodded and continued, “Second, I just had a meeting with captain Sullivan, and, after careful consideration, I find myself agreeing with him. Bishop,” he paused dramatically as his gaze shifted to Maya, “you are to remain here, at 19, even after Lieutenant Gibson is back from medical leave.”

Of course, cheers began to erupt in the barn. Sullivan instantly cut them off. “What did I _just_ say?” His scary growl was enough to make everyone fall silent once again, though Travis was sure he saw the corner of Sullivan’s lips twitch in a refrained smile before his trademark emotionless expression was back on his face.

“Sorry, sir,” they murmured, their contrite tone belied by the delighted smile they were all harboring.

All but Vic, that was, whose blank expression crumbled more and more with each passing minute, giving way to sadness and hurt. Travis’s blood started boiling in his veins once more and his hateful glare was back on Ripley, where he kept it during the entire duration of Sullivan’s uniform inspection and announcement of the program of the day (to which he barely listened, though it did not matter much since the program for the whole month was plastered in the bunk area anyway). He could not believe that Ripley had dared show his face here mere days after he’d ended things with Vic. He had to know that seeing him so soon after would hurt her. And it wasn’t like Sullivan couldn’t have told them about Maya staying here. Oh, how he wanted to punch him. But, since he couldn’t, he would have to settle for the next best thing to make Ripley suffer the way he deserved.

*

* *

As soon as Sullivan dismissed them, Vic warmly congratulated a beaming Bishop before heading to the storage room with Travis to start tool maintenance. She waited until the door was safely closed behind them before turning to him with an angry glare.

“ _What the fuck do you think you’re doing_?” she whispered angrily. He blinked in confusion. “You can’t look at Ripley like you’re trying to murder him with your eyeballs! He’s the _chief_.”

His puzzled expression turned to a stubborn one as he answered, “I don’t care! He can’t just waltz in here and –”

“Yeah, he can, actually,” she interrupted him. “ _He’s the chief!_ He can do whatever the hell he wants. Especially when he’s just doing his job! That’s one of the first things he and I agreed on when we started… whatever it was; that it wouldn’t interfere with our jobs in any way!”

Travis folded his arms across his chest. “I know, and I’m not saying that he should not show up at a big scene or anything, but _this_? He wasn’t _needed_ ; he could’ve let Sullivan make the announcement. But, no; he just imposed his presence upon you, knowing that it would hurt you, when he had the choice not to. And I’m supposed to _not_ stare at him like I want to kill him?”

Vic sighed heavily. She could not deny that seeing Lucas – Ripley, it’s Ripley now, she reminded herself for the millionth time – had been tough. When she had walked into the barn to find him standing next to Sullivan, it had felt like the sun warming her skin for the first time after a long, cold, bleak winter, which had only made her feel worse when he hadn’t spared her so much as a glance. She’d seen him a couple of times at the station after the windstorm, never for long and always around her team, but he would steal a few knowing glances in her direction that made her feel empowered, because that unbelievably attractive, sweet, caring man who happened to be the Fire Chief was _hers_ (sort of, anyway). But he hadn’t looked at her today, because he wasn’t hers anymore, in any sort of way, and it had felt like someone had ripped her heart out before diligently stomping on it until it was as flat as a deflated balloon. But she couldn’t blame that on him. She told Travis as much.

“It’s not his fault that I’m hurt, Trav,” she said with a resigned smile. “I knew what I was getting into, I knew it was going to end. I was the one stupid enough to start having feelings for him. And _you_ really shouldn’t be mad at him; you’re the one who told me that it would be better if the bank closed, remember?”

“I – did,” he grudgingly admitted, “but _you_ were the one supposed to do it. And _he_ was supposed to beg you not to and quit his job so that you two could be together forever!”

Vic couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her. “You watch to many romance movies.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Okay, fine, maybe not quit his job. But at least try to find a solution. Because you’re amazing, Vic. You’re – you’re the jackpot. And you deserved to be fought for. He just… gave up on you, on what you had, without even trying. _And_ he hurt you in the process and I’m never going to be okay with that.”

A surge of affection warmed her chest at those words. Vic gave her best friend a warm smile. “Travis, I love you. For thinking of me like that. For being so protective of me. But, aside from him quitting his job – which I would not have let him do, even if he had offered – there was no solution. Ripley did the right thing; closing the bank while the tree was still small.” She let out a small chuckle and shook her head. “Oh, wow, we really have to stop with the metaphors. Anyway, yes, I am hurt now, but in two weeks I’ll be totally over it. And if Ripley hadn’t stopped it, my feelings for him would only have gotten stronger, and getting over him would have been a whole lot harder. So, in a way, he spared me a lot of heartache.”

That was more or less the exact speech she’d been giving herself for the past few days, trying to convince herself that it was all for the best, because it would never have worked out anyway. Though there was still a small part of her that didn’t feel like listening to the rational argument, a part of her that was on Travis’s side, that had wanted Lucas – Ripley, Ripley, Ripley – to want to move heaven and heart so that they could be together. But that part of her she shut out, buried deep down until its voice couldn’t reach her anymore; not being around L- Ripley was hard enough, but to acknowledge that the actual, fundamental reason for which he’d broken things off was that he didn’t care about her enough to do everything in his power to be with her… That would be too painful to handle.

Travis held on to his obstinate frown. “And I love you too, Vic. That’s why none of what you just said matters to me. Whether or not you would’ve ended up more hurt later on, you’re still hurting now. And Ripley’s the reason why. And I’m never going to stop hating him for that.”

“Fine,” she said as she sighed in defeat. “Keep hating him if you must. But you can’t go all protective bring brother on him, because that’s just going to create more problems than it’s going to solve.”

“Fine,” he allowed with a dramatic huff. “I’ll stop murderously glaring at him.”

“And you won’t be disrespectful, or insubordinate, or any other thing that might get you fired?”

Travis took a step closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders, locking his eyes with hers as he answered, “I won’t do any of those things; promise.”

As he said those words, his warm, honest eyes shone with a mysterious glint that Vic could not identify.

*

* *

It wasn’t until the next day that Vic understood what the glint in her best friend’s eyes had been about. They had decided to go out for drinks that night, to celebrate Lieutenant Bishop staying at Station 19. Gibson had surprisingly accepted to join them, as had Sullivan, after Andy had relentlessly pestered him into it – apparently, having your arm in a cast for two months froze your brain cells and made you befriend the sternest, grumpiest, most socially awkward person in the world. Conversation was a bit stiff at first, but, with the help of alcohol, everyone relaxed soon enough.

Gibson’s expression softened and then he was talking to everyone like he hadn’t been shutting them out since they forced him to get some help for his PTSD. He told Dean he’d get him his second beer, and Vic knew that that was them making up, something that made her very happy for them, because they had clearly missed each other a lot.

Even Sullivan was smiling and laughing after a couple of drinks; he talked mostly to Andy but did take part in the general conversation as well. Vic’s jaw literally dropped when he challenged Gibson to a drink-off after the latter boasted about never having met anyone who could drink a pint of beer faster than him. Of course, gold-medalist Bishop joined in, unable as she was to resist any kind of competition. And Andy thought it would be fun too, for some reason. All four of them got a pint of beer, named Warren judge and Vic could only gawk as those four supposedly grown-ass people – out of which two were the most serious people Vic had ever met – started downing their beers like frat boys trying to establish their manliness. But that level of bafflement was nothing next to what her state of shock climbed to when Sullivan gulped down the whole pint in literally five seconds. Andy was next, then Gibson, half a second after her, and finally Maya.

“How the hell did you do that?!” Andy exclaimed with an impressed chuckle as she turned to Sullivan.

The captain laughed. “Old trick my best friend taught me; you block your glottis, so you don’t have to swallow. It just flows down effortlessly. And quickly.” He smirked mockingly at Gibson. “Quicker than you, Gibson.”

“Yeah, but just ‘cause you cheated, sir,” Gibson replied with a shrug.

“Uh, don’t want to burst you bubble, buddy, but I beat you too,” Andy pointed out with a smug smile.

“Yeah, you just suck, man. Stop trying to find excuses,” Sullivan went on playfully.

Vic and Travis shared an astonished look.

“Do you think someone stole his body?” he whispered into Vic’s ear, making her chuckle.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back. “I feel like we’ve entered another dimension, where it’s actually possible for Sullivan to not be in a terrible mood.”

“Well, now at least we can stop wondering if he’s botoxed.” They laughed softly.

It was unusual, to say the least, to see their captain without his eternal blank, emotionless expression. Vic couldn’t help but think about what L- Ripley had told her about Sullivan, wondering if she was getting a glimpse of the man who’d been his best friend all those years ago. She sighed internally. _Stop thinking about him_ , she scolded herself, as she had a thousand times before. It was easier said than done, though; everything reminded her of him, to the point of it being ridiculous; if she heard sirens, she thought of him, if she saw a book, any book at all, she thought of him, if she passed Sullivan’s office, she thought of him. Her own apartment was filled with him. It wasn’t just the Station 88 crew shirt that she had carefully buried at the bottom of her closet until she could decide what to do with it, or the bookmark inside _A Game of Thrones_ , which hadn’t been moved from the coffee table since the last time L- Ripley had come by – she was doing a great job at pretending that it wasn’t there, so that she wouldn’t have to admit that there was no way in hell she could ever get rid of that bookmark –, or the coffee mug that he always used and that she’d come to think of as his; it was everything else as well; the bed, the kitchen, the couch, the bathroom… the shadow of his presence was everywhere.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a good-looking African American guy coming up to where she was sitting at the end of the table and asking her if he could buy her a drink. Just like the four other times that had happened tonight, everyone else at the table dropped their conversation and watched her with unconcealed interest. Just as she had the others, Vic turned him down as gently as she could. The guy looked at her in surprise.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand ‘no’?” she replied with a chill in her voice.

“No, I do,” he said instantly as he put his hands up in surrender. “It’s just, your friend here” – he nodded towards Dean – “told me that you thought I was – cute and that you wouldn’t mind me buying you a drink, that’s all.”

Vic glanced at Dean questioningly, but he was now staring into his glass as though it held the answer to life itself, noticed that everyone was suddenly very intently not looking in her direction, then brought her attention back to the guy.

“Uh, he – must have – misunderstood. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Enjoy your night.”

She offered him a polite smile; he walked away, and she turned back to Dean, more stunned than angry.

“What the fuck, man?”

He slowly looked up from his glass and met her gaze sheepishly. “Look, before you get mad at me… They all did it as well.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Warren immediately stated.

“Seriously, dude?” Gibson groaned at the same time.

Dean just shrugged, “Hey, I’m not taking the fall for something we were all a part of. And, Warren, don’t pretend you’re not in this as well; the only reason you didn’t do anything is ‘cause you were supposed to be up next.”

“Up next for what?” Vic exclaimed, completely lost as her tipsy brain tried to understand what was happening. “Will someone _please_ explain what’s going on?”

They all looked at each other for a moment, each one clearly willing someone else to speak up. It was Sullivan, of all people, who ended up explaining. “They’re trying to find you a date for New Year’s Eve. Because apparently your bank buddy Mayhorn was an ass to you and they think you should make him jealous. For the record, I’m only repeating what Herrera told me; I have no part in this.”

Vic shot Travis a dark glare. “Montgomery; you’re a dead man.”

“Look, Vic, I’m sorry, okay? But you can’t not make him jealous! And since I don’t really know anyone, and Grant couldn’t think of someone either, I had to ask the team. And they kept asking why I wanted to find you a date so much and I… crumbled under the pressure. But, as it turns out, no one here knows anyone who’s not – here. So, we came up with a plan to find you someone tonight. Please don’t be mad. Please? We just wanted to help you…”

With his puppy dog eyes and his pleading tone, he looked so much alike a very contrite child that Vic’s anger deflated instantly. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. “I’m not mad. Offended, yes, that you felt like I needed your help to find a date, and that you didn’t think that guys would offer me drinks if you didn’t go and talk to them first. But not mad; however misplaced and totally disrespectful of boundaries your plan was, it was done with good intentions. So, thank you all, I guess, for your efforts, but you can stop now, ‘cause I have no intentions of making – Mayhorn jealous.”

“Why not?” Bishop asked. “The guy was an ass to you; he totally deserves to be tortured a little.”

Vic exhaled sharply. “Look, I don’t know what Travis told you” – she gave him a meaningful glare – “but he wasn’t an ass to me. He didn’t do anything wrong, okay? We were just – not meant to be. That’s it. And I may be a little – disappointed, but I’m not like heartbroken or anything.” – _definitely not_ , she thought resolutely. “I’m gonna uproot this tree in no time, so –”

“What did you just say?” Sullivan interrupted her with an odd edge to his voice.

“Right, sorry, there’s no reason for any of you besides Travis to know what that means. It’s, uh, code for… getting over the, uh, relationship, sir.”

Sullivan sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a second before plastering an awkward smile on his face and getting up. “Right, well, it’s getting late and I’m sure you don’t want your boss to see you all completely wasted, so… Thank you for the invitation to join you. I, uh, had a nice time. See you next shift, 19.”

“Goodnight, sir,” Vic said with a nod as the others bid him goodbye as well.

“About the whole ‘not making Mayhorn jealous’ thing…,” Andy started when the captain was gone. “Are you sure you don’t wanna reconsider?”

Vic took a sip of her cocktail before answering, “Yep, hundred percent sure. So, let’s stop talking about it and get super, super wasted instead. Who’s up for shots?”

*

* *

Lucas was reading in his study – the only room in his house that didn’t hold a thousand memories of… her – when the doorbell rang. It rang again as he checked his watched and was surprised to discover that it was nearing midnight, both because he hadn’t realized that he’d been reading for almost four hours and because it was a really weird hour for someone to come and visit him. Another ring; he got up. He was in the stairwell when the pounding started.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he yelled in an irritated voice across the hallway. The pounding stopped, telling him his voice had reached the mysterious visitor.

He opened the door to find Sully very angrily glare at him.

“ _Hughes_?” he hissed before Lucas could open his mouth.

_Fuck_ , was all that came to Lucas in that moment. He sighed resignedly and stepped to the side. “Why don’t you come in?”

Sully walked past him without a word and headed for the kitchen. Lucas closed the door and followed him. “You smell like beer,” he said as he entered the kitchen. “How’d you get here?”

“Took a cab,” he grumbled.

Lucas nodded. “Right, well, take seat. I’ll just grab a beer.” He was definitely going to need alcohol for this conversation. “Want another one?”

The man shook his head, but still sat at the island.

“Anything else?” Lucas asked as he opened his fridge. “Water, milk?”

“You’re the only weirdo around here who drinks milk, Luke.”

“Water, then?” he repeated patiently.

Sully huffed. “Water’s fine. And stop stalling. This conversation is happening.”

Lucas poured him a glass of water and quickly opened his beer before making his way to the island and sitting across from his friend.

“So, you know.” It wasn’t a question, but Sully nodded anyway. “Who else knows?”

“No one. They think Hughes’s bank buddy’s Mayhorn. He’s a firefighter from 23, apparently.”

Mayhorn, he knew; she had told him they’d gone on a couple of dates. The first part, though… “Bank buddy?” he repeated, his face crumpling in confusion.

His friend shrugged. “Don’t ask, man; I don’t know. That’s what Herrera called him when she told me about their stupid plan.”

“What plan?”

“To make Mayhorn jealous. Well,” he scowled at him, “to make _you_ jealous, even though they don’t know that.”

“They have a plan to make me jealous?”

“Had,” was the only answer he got.

Lucas was completely lost. He took a swig of his beer then asked, “Care to elaborate?”

That earned him a dark look. “I’m the one supposed to be grilling you right now. You know, since you’ve been _fucking one of my firefighters!_ ”

His choice of words awoke Lucas’s irritation, but he swallowed it; Sully was definitely a little drunk, and it wasn’t like Lucas was in any position to get mad right now. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Will you at least tell me how you found out it was – her?”

“She talked about uprooting a tree.”

Lucas couldn’t bite back a small chuckle – of all the ways their secret could have been outed, that was by far the most ridiculous one. “Yeah, I guess that would do it.” He took another gulp of his drink, a longer one this time; exhaled. “So, what do you want to know?”

His friend’s eyes met his with frightful seriousness. “Did you take advantage of her?”

“No. Everything was consensual; I swear.”

“No special treatment?” Lucas shook his head. “No promise that you would give her special treatment as long as she kept… you know.”

His grip around the bottle tightened, his knuckles turning white. He kept his voice as composed as he could manage, though he knew his eyes were burning with anger. “You know I didn’t. Look, if you want to yell at me for starting something with one of your firefighters, go ahead, I deserve it. But you don’t get to come in my home and throw accusations at me. Not when you have _no idea_ what happened, what…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I liked her, Sully. I cared about her. A lot. And if – if the circumstances had been different… we would have worked. Because we were so good together.” He paused, shook his head. “You don’t get to judge me, because you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sully shook his head disapprovingly, but his gaze softened a bit. When he spoke, his tone was softer as well. “You’re right; I don’t. But still, man, out of all the women in Seattle, you _had_ to choose one my firefighters?”

“I didn’t choose her,” he answered as he failed to fight the small smile that inevitably appeared whenever he thought about her. “I was… drawn to her and I –”

“Yeah, you didn’t know how to resist,” he completed. “I know; you told me.” He rolled tired eyes at him, but the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards as he spoke again in a warm, almost compassionate voice. “You’re a damn fool; you know that, right?”

“Oh, I know.” 

There was a short pause before Lucas dared to ask, “So… a plan to make me jealous?”

His friend quickly told him about what had happened earlier tonight as he was getting drinks with the team – the fact that he actually joined them for once make Lucas incredibly happy, though he knew better than to interrupt Sully now. He quietly listened to the story with growing bewilderment, because 19 really had the weirdest ideas sometimes, though he was truly grateful that her friends cared about her so much. The last part stung more than he would have liked; he didn’t want her to be heartbroken, not one bit, but the implication behind it was that she didn’t have any real feelings for him, and that was definitely tough to hear.

“They can be relentless, though,” Sully added when he was done recounting the events of the night. “So, they might yet get their way. And even if they don’t, I know you’re gonna want to do something incredibly stupid at that ball, like talking to her. Lucky for you, I’m gonna be there to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Lucas chuckled. “You’re forgetting I have to bring a date, Sully. Pretty sure she’ll be a good enough buffer.”

His friend looked at him in surprise. “Does that mean you found someone?”

“I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to all of you for reading, reviewing and leaving kudos! It really means a lot to me to know that you're enjoying this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. I know it's a bit... well, not unified. I thought about putting up several small chapters instead, but then decided it wouldn't really change anything and, that way, it's only one chapter without any Vicley interaction instead of 2 or 3. Anyway, hope you liked it. 
> 
> I also wanted to say that I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this Sullivandy thing - they might stay friends, or grow into something more, I really don't know yet. But, in any case, at no point will the focus shift to them, if some of you are worried about that. 
> 
> Also, full disclosure: Vic will not be making Ripley jealous at the ball. I need the Ripley-being-jealous trope later in the story and I don't want to get repetitive. But it's still gonna be a very eventful night!


	7. Only Love Can Hurt Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Vic sees Ripley with his date at the ball, she jumps to unfortunate conclusions.

A satisfied smile formed on Vic’s lips as she checked herself in the mirror. She’d been getting ready for the past two hours, and the final result was definitely worth it. Even she could admit that she looked hot. She’d gone dress shopping with Andy and Maya a couple of days before and had found this amazing burgundy one-shoulder gown that stopped just an inch above the ground, thanks to the matching strappy high-heels she was wearing. Aside from the strip of fabric that went from her right shoulder to where it met with the rest of the dress just above her waist, her back was completely nude. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, leaving her neck enticingly bare, while a few artistically curled strands covered the left part of her forehead, following the shape of her eye. Her make-up was light, as usual – just a touch of mascara that broadened her eyes and a pale shade of pink lipstick that discreetly called attention to her full lips.

After one last look in the mirror to make sure that nothing was out of place, Vic made her way to her living room, where Travis stood with his eyes bolted on his phone as he typed something; most likely he was texting Grant, who was busy catering an event tonight, much to her friend’s dismay, and hers as well – she liked Grant, and Travis was always happier when he was around, which made her happy. But, at least, that way, they could do a repeat of last year; Travis coming to Vic’s apartment and them getting a little tipsy as they got ready for the night, while she complained about how easier life was for men sometimes – it had taken her best friend about twenty minutes to get ready (including the shower). The only thing that had required a tiny bit of effort was the touch of hair gel that kept his hair purposely disheveled in a casual ‘I look like that every single day’ look. Twenty minutes, and yet, with his perfectly cut black tux, white button-down shirt with the top button left open and black leather shoes, he looked like he was about to shoot a Hugo Boss commercial.

Vic cleared her throat as she walked in, making Travis look up from his phone. His mouth fell slightly open as his eyes landed on her, prompting a proud smile to appear on Vic’s face.

“I know _someone_ who’s going to regret not bringing you as your date tonight,” he exclaimed, knowingly wiggling his eyebrows.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she replied with an indifferent shrug. “I don’t really care.”

Travis turned to her with an unconvinced expression. “Right. Because you’re totally over him.”

“I am definitely – getting there,” she answered with a slow nod. “And besides, that’s not even the point. He can regret or not regret all he wants, I’m not gonna think about it, because tonight’s not about him. It’s about celebrating the New Year and having fun with our friends. While we raid the open bar.”

She meant that with all her heart. Getting over Ripley was taking a bit longer than she would have liked, but she was definitely not about to let him ruin this night, which she’d been looking forward to for months, because the annual New Year’s Eve firefighter ball last year had been one of the greatest nights of her life. And, according to the rest of the team, it was as amazing every year. So, having a great time with her friends what was she was going to focus on, not Ripley or his date.

“Besides,” she added when the disbelief in Travis’s eyes didn’t let up, “why would I care about what another guy’s gonna think when he sees me, when _I_ have the hottest date in the whole wide world?”

That made him chuckle. “Can’t argue with that.”

“So,” he asked when their laughter subsided, “do we leave now or after one last drink?”

They had one last drink, called an Uber and, a short drive later, were dropped off in front of the hotel where the party was held every year. They rushed inside, eager to escape the dreadful December temperatures as quickly as possible and made their way to the wing dedicated to the ball. A short queue led them to a tall, broad, scary bouncer who checked their names on the list and let them in, all of it without a single emotion appearing on his face.

After a fast trip to the coat check, they stepped inside the ballroom. Vic suddenly longed for the cold winter weather; the place was steaming with the heat radiating from the crowd of bodies that were assembled there. It wasn’t only firefighters; tickets were sold to civilians to pay for the whole night, and there was always a lot of them – among which women hoping to find themselves some hot piece of firefighter man-candy were usually the majority; clichés came in handy sometimes. Plus, Vic had to admit that her free drinks being funded by the objectifying of men was slightly amusing.

A few people were already dancing; as for the others, a few lucky ones had found a free seat on the black leather couches at the edges of the room, and the rest was happy to simply stand in groups with a drink in their hands and chat over the music. The relative lack of commotion made it easier to spot the rest of their team; they were gathered some twenty yards away with Sullivan and two people neither Travis nor Vic knew.

“Finally!” Andy exclaimed as they joined them. “You know this thing started an hour ago, right?”

“Yeah, well, it takes time to look like _this_ ,” Vic answered playfully as she waved her hand up and down her body.

Gibson scoffed. “Please, we all know you and Montgomery were just getting drunk without us.”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause no sane person arrives sober at a party.”

Maya had a mocking smirk. “You sure you don’t mean ‘no sane person arrives sober at a party where they’re going to have to see their ex’?”

Vic glared at her before turning to the two strangers with a broad grin and extending her hand. “Hi! Hum, I – don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Victoria Hughes, but everyone calls me Vic.”

She shook the man’s hand first. He was of medium height, with a handsome but plain face and short-cut hair with a slight receding hairline. He introduced himself as Liam. The woman was beautiful; tall, thin, with a bright smile that revealed perfect, white teeth, chestnut curls cascading down her shoulders and sparkling blue-green eyes. Her face seemed familiar, though Vic couldn’t remember where she knew it from.

“ _Vic_ ,” the woman repeated slowly as she shook her hand, eyes glinting with a vivid interest Vic did not understand. “I’m Jennifer.”

Something clicked in her mind as she heard the name.

_Oh_.

Now she remembered why the woman looked so familiar; it had been her face smiling in most of the pictures adorning his house. 

With a knowing smile, Jennifer added what Vic already knew. “I’m Chief Ripley’s sister.”

Vic coughed out a nervous chuckle as she desperately tried to find something to say. Travis jumped to her rescue.

“Oh, hi, I’m Travis. It’s very nice to meet you! I had no idea Chief Ripley had a sister. Do you come here every year?”

Vic let out a sigh of relief as Jennifer turned her attention to Travis, before letting everyone know she was getting herself a drink and making a beeline to the bar. As she waited her turn, her mind played back the awkward encounter. The way Jennifer had looked at her left no doubt that she knew who Vic was. She didn’t really mind that Ripley had told his sister about them; it wasn’t like she was going to rat her own brother out to the department.

What concerned her more was that Bishop had spoken about her ‘ex’ and even though Ripley couldn’t exactly be defined as such, Jennifer had surely understood that it was him that Maya had been talking about, even though Maya herself had no idea. Except that Jennifer wasn’t privy to that particular information, which meant that she most likely thought that the entire team knew. And that meant that Vic would have to explain to Ripley that it was all a big misunderstanding, and she really did not want to talk to him.

Well, that was only partly true. She both wanted and did not want to talk to him, just as she both wanted and did not want to see him tonight. Wanted because she still missed him, no matter how hard she tried not to. Didn’t because she was afraid of how much it would hurt, to stand in front of him and not be able to gently mock him, to flirt with him, to touch him.

The other thing that was bothering her was _why_. Why had he told his sister? What did it mean? Did he just tell her absolutely everything? Or had he told her because what they had had meant something to him? Something real?

She forced the questions out of her mind. It didn’t matter anyway. Whatever the answers, the facts were still the same; they could never be together.

The bartender interrupted her thoughts as she asked her what she wanted. Vic ordered a rum and coke. She was absentmindedly following the bartender’s movement when someone came up next to her. It was Jennifer.

“I’m really sorry,” she said with a contrite smile. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable in front of your team. I just wanted to meet Bobby’s crew; I had no idea _you_ were one of them.”

“B – Bobby?” she stammered stupidly.

“Oh, uh, Sullivan.”

She had to swallow a laugh at the idea of their stern, strict captain being referred to as ‘Bobby’. “Oh, right. But, really, you don’t – have to – apologize. It’s just – I wasn’t really prepared to –”

“Meet your ex’s sister?” Jennifer offered with a smirk.

“Oh, Ripley’s not – he’s not my ex. Well, he is; kind of, I guess. But also, not. And definitely not the ‘ex’ Maya, my teammate, was talking about. Well, he is. But she doesn’t know that he is. No one knows. I mean except – except… you. And him, uh, obviously.” She chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I tend to ramble when I’m – nervous. Not that you make me nervous. But you are the chief’s sister. And my kind of ex’s sister. ‘Cause they’re the same person. But, wow, okay, _anyway_ ; they don’t know, is – what I was trying to say.”

The glint of amusement in the woman’s blue-green eyes reminded Vic of similar eyes that always smiled when she lost herself to her nervous rambling, eyes even more beautiful, so blue, so deep. How she missed drowning in them.

“I didn’t think that they knew,” Jennifer replied with a reassuring smile. “They wouldn’t have talked about him in front of me if they had.”

“Probably not,” Vic conceded with a dip of the head.

“And,” the woman added with a contrite wince, “the only reason I know is because I figured it out. When Luke arrived late for my daughter’s birthday party, it took one look at him to know… _why_.” Vic felt herself blush and her gaze fell to the side as she breathed out an embarrassed laugh. “So, I pretty much grilled him until he spilled. So, you know, don’t be mad at him, for telling me.”

It hadn’t meant anything, then. Ripley hadn’t told his sister because he wanted to share a part of his life that he thought was important; Jennifer had made him. Vic ignored the sting in her chest. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t let thoughts of Ripley ruin her night, and she was intent on keeping that promise.

She was about to reassure Jennifer when the bartender finally came back with her drink.

“Well,” Jennifer said after Vic had thanked the bartender, “I’ll let you get back to your team. Don’t worry, I’m not coming with you; Liam and Bobby already went back to rescue my brother from all the brownnosers’ claws. I just wanted to apologize first.”

“Uh, thank you. But, really, there was no need. Anyway, I hope you enjoy your night.”

“You too, Vic.”

She offered her another smile and left. Vic resisted the temptation to follow her with her eyes, knowing where she would lead them, and rushed back to her friends.

Ben was busy telling a story about how Gibson thought it would be funny to try and walk on his hands on Miller’s deck – Vic was pretty sure it was going to end with Gibson falling into the water – when something made her turn her gaze to the right.

Her heart skipped a beat.

The eyes that were watching her, she would have recognized anywhere. For a second, she stopped breathing, lost in a sea of blue. Everything around her faded. She could only see his eyes, his eyes that were locked with hers in a scorching gaze. For a second, there was something in the air between them, electric, stirring. Desire coursed through her body. And something else; something she couldn’t feel, something she couldn’t fight.

Just a second; then he averted his gaze. The spell broke, and she saw the rest. Him, looking as handsome as ever in his deep blue-grey tux, though she’d be thinking the same if he was wearing rags. But not just him. The woman at his side, too – her thin, long legs; the black dress that hugged her perfect body in all the right places; her graceful poise; the multitude of freckles gracing her porcelain cheeks; the fiery red mane that swayed against her back, flickering even in the dim light.

A pang of jealousy hit her as she watched their smiles and laughs as they conversed with a group of people – among which were Jennifer and her husband as well as Sullivan – his arm around her waist, her hand casually resting on his shoulder; she would never get to do that, to be claimed as his in the open. No, she was to forever remain in the shadows, a dirty little secret that he wished to forget. That he’d already forgotten, told the scene in front of her; it most certainly didn’t look like Ripley had been reluctant to bring that stunningly beautiful woman as his date, simply because he’d been forced to by the department. This wasn’t an act, a PR stunt, a lie sold to the public; they were too comfortable around each other, naturally leaning into each other’s space, into each other’s touch. They were together, for real.

The realization hit Vic like a thousand bricks crumbling over her, trapping her body in a deadly embrace.

He had a girlfriend, a mere two weeks after he’d ended things with her, not because he’d wanted to, but because it was the only choice… Or so he’d said. But, now, it was clear that he’d only used it as an excuse to stop seeing her, so that he could start a relationship with someone else – the way Ripley and his date acted around each other was evidence enough that he hadn’t met her just two weeks ago, that he’d known her for a while.

Vic knew she should be angry that he’d lied to her, that he’d taken the easy way out, that he’d been to coward to stand in front of her and tell her that he didn’t want her anymore, that he wanted someone else. But she only felt pain, cruel, agonizing pain.

It hurt. 

So much; like salt being poured over a thousand cuts. Her heart was aching, physically, every breath coming with another twinge of pain.

And yet, her eyes refused to move; she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him, from _them_ , from the proof that he didn’t miss her, that he was happier without her, that he had never cared about her, not even a little.

Herrera’s voice – or rather, Herrera’s words – was what made her finally look away.

“Oh my God, is that _Ripley_ with a _date_?” she asked in a tone as shocked and excited as if the Queen of England had just walked in, making the others look in the direction she was gesturing at with her chin and Vic do the exact opposite as blood ran cold in her veins.

She met Travis’s concerned eyes. “I’m fine,” she mouthed as an answer to his silent question. He did not believe her, was what his narrowing eyes said.

“Damn, it is.” Dean’s voice brought Vic back to a conversation she definitely did not want to hear. “And she is _hot_. Go, Ripley.”

Vic couldn’t resist turning her gaze back to the couple, just in time so see Ripley whisper something in his girlfriend’s ear. She laughed gracefully, then turned her head to lay a gentle kiss on his cheek. Vic’s stomach twisted and she averted her eyes again.

Gibson chuckled. “Well, the guy’s definitely getting some tonight.”

“Told you he had sex,” Bishop added smugly.

This was torture, some kind of cosmic joke inflicted upon her for not following the rules. She brought her glass to her lips to swallow her pleas that they stop talking about Ripley and his date, fearing that it would give her away immediately, and downed it in three long gulps. Her eyes stung a little as the bubbly liquid scratched her throat, but the slightly uncomfortable sensation was instantly washed away by the warmth that spread through her chest.

Then, for the second time of the night, Travis came to her rescue. “Okay, how about we stop focusing on our boss’s sex life and get this party started? ‘Cause I don’t know about you, but I didn’t come here to just stand around doing nothing. I wanna dance.”

And so, they moved to the dance floor and did just that, though not before Vic got herself another drink. She still refused to let Ripley get in the way of her having fun, and that was going to require a fair amount of alcohol.

*

* *

Lucas thanked the bartender as she handed him a beer, then turned around to face the room; most of the people had migrated to the dancefloor, giving him the leisure to rest his back against the bar and sip his drink in as much tranquility as could be mustered at such a party.

He didn’t consciously move his eyes; yet they found her, dancing with a bright smile on her face. There were hundreds of people in this room, but his gaze always seemed to know where she was. He knew he should stop looking, but he couldn’t. Maybe he would, someday, be able to tear his eyes away from her. Not tonight, though, not when she was seductively swaying her body along the music in a backless dress that clung to her perfectly, highlighting her every curve in a way that sent blood rushing below his waist. It was taking every ounce of self-control not to get up and join her; lock their hips together in a heated dance; let his fingers roam over her bare back; feel how smooth and warm her skin was; kiss her slowly, sensually; take her lower lip between his teeth and nibble at it. How long, then, until they escaped to a dark corner?

How he wanted her. How he longed for her. How he missed her. All of her; her body, her touch, her laugh, her smile that shone brighter than the sun, her witty comments, her endless playful mocking, the way her eyes would light up with child-like wonder when she was excited, the small vein that popped out on her forehead when she was flustered,… There wasn’t a part of her that he didn’t miss with every fiber of his being.

“Stop staring at my firefighter,” a reprimanding voice commanded next to his ear so that he could hear it over the music, which was much louder now than it had been at the beginning.

Lucas had been so enraptured by the sight of Vic that he hadn’t even noticed that Sullivan was now next to him, one elbow leaning on the bar as he looked at Lucas with a tired expression.

He let out a heavy sigh. “You’re worse than a high-school chaperone.”

There was a pat on his shoulder. “Just looking out for you, Luke. You know you’re only hurting yourself, constantly watching her. And I really have to stop you before what you feel for her becomes… noticeable.” He cocked his head to the side and his lips twitched into a mocking smirk. “Though I guess with you it won’t be all that noticeable.”

Lucas laughed heartily. God, he was glad to have Sully back. It was such an odd thing, that one sparring session had erased the last fifteen years and had them back to sharing the close friendship they’d always had, and yet it didn’t seem odd at all; they had always clicked, would always click, no matter what. They really saw each other, understood each other’s strengths and flaws. They were always going to make up, Lucas realized that now, because they connected in a way that couldn’t be explained, that made it possible for them to find each other over distance, time, or any other obstacles that had to be faced. Now that he was spending time with him again, it dawned on Lucas that he’d missed him even more than he’d thought, and that they had found their way back to each other was truly one of the most beautiful gifts he’d ever received.

“Seriously, though,” Sully added. “Stop staring. It’s not doing anyone any good. If you _have to_ be a creep, just stare at your date. She’s not too hard on the eyes.”

Lucas’s gaze landed on the spot his friend nodded towards, where Liv was dancing merrily with Jen and Liam. Sully was right; she was very beautiful, but Lucas did not think of her that way in the least. In his eye, she would always be his baby sister’s best friend, whom he’d known since she was three and he was eleven. When Jen had told her about his hopeless search for a date so close to New Year’s Eve, Liv had immediately volunteered herself, saving Lucas from an awkward night with a perfect stranger. She was supposed to celebrate with Liam and Jen anyway, so they had just decided that they would all come here. It was a perfect plan, and Lucas was immensely grateful to Liv, though he still didn’t know how he would manage to kiss her at midnight. That promised to be a weird and uncomfortable moment, that neither Jen nor Liv would ever let him live down. But, since it was to assure the civilians present that being a firefighter did not mean giving up on love, he’d have to be as convincing as possible.

“Pretty sure you’re not her type, Sully,” he deadpanned before drinking the last drops of his beer.

His friend’s eyebrows raised in a blasé expression. “Not what I meant.”

Lucas turned around briefly to order another beer, then moved back to his previous position once his fingers were curled around a full glass.

“You better enjoy that one,” Sully warned him. “It’s your last.”

“You my dad, now?” he asked wryly.

Amusement twinkled in his friend's eyes. “Yes, Luke. I am your father.” 

“Your originality baffles me,” he replied with a roll of his eyes, though he knew his sarcastic tone was undermined by the chortle that left his lips.

“Well, you kinda set yourself up for that one. I mean it, though,”, he added with a meaningful glare. “I _am_ cutting you off after this one.”

“So, I can’t talk to her, I can’t look at her, and I can’t even drown my sorrows in alcohol?” he whined.

“Come on man,” Sully said in a jaded tone, “PR didn’t want you to come here alone because they thought it would look bad. How do you think they’re going to take it if you end up drunk off your ass?”

“Fuck PR,” Lucas groaned. “It’s their fault all of this is happening.”

Sully shot him a stern look. “Nope, it’s your fault, for not stopping five seconds to think about what a truly terrible idea sleeping with Hughes was.”

“ _You_ clearly never slept with her,” he muttered under his breath.

That earned him another dark look. “Yeah, I don’t wanna know.” There was a short pause before he added in a nicer tone, “Look, we wait till midnight, we stay another twenty minutes so it doesn’t look like we’re fleeing, then we can all go to your place and get drunk. Deal?”

Lucas nodded unenthusiastically, then looked at his watch and groaned. There were still a couple of hours to endure.

*

* *

_Ten…_

There it was, the moment Vic had been dreading the entire night. The music had stopped, and everyone now stood still, smiling excitedly as they roared the numbers along with the DJ.

_Nine…_

Her eyes moved of their own volition to where Ripley was standing. _Don’t look_ , she admonished herself.

_Eight…_

She averted her gaze and stared at Travis instead, who nodded in approval.

_Seven…_

“Don’t look,” said her best friend’s eyes.

_Six…_

Her eyes moved again.

_Five…_

Back to Travis; she met his warning glare.

_Four…_

“Just look at me,” was the silent message he sent her with his two fingers pointed at his eyes.

_Three…_

_Don’t look._

_Two…_

_Don’t look._

_One…_

_Do_ not _look._

_HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

She looked.

She shouldn’t have.

Her hands were on his chest, his arms encircled her waist as he leaned down. Their lips locked.

A ferocious beast clawed at Vic’s chest as she watched, digging for a heart that was no longer whole.

It didn’t last long, perhaps a couple of seconds. Enough to make her feel like she’d been stabbed over and over again. A film of tears blurred her vision.

Then people resumed their excited dancing to the beat of the music that was once more pounding in her ears, and her sight was blocked.

Her friends were jumping up and down along with everyone else in the room, too drunk and excited to notice that Vic hadn’t moved. Except for Travis, of course, who hadn’t moved either. The room was too warm suddenly; it felt like she was suffocating. She needed some air. She moved to Travis to tell him as much, almost shouting in his ear to make herself heard. His eyes filled with concern as he asked her if she wanted him to come with her. She shook her head with determination. She knew he would hug her compassionately and tell her that Ripley wasn’t worth it, and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from crying. And she didn’t want to cry. She’d already cried too much because of him. She just needed some air, a few moments alone to pull herself together, to find her inner strength again, so that she could come back on the dance floor and enjoy the moment.

She walked for a bit, stumbling a little in her state of mild intoxication, and found herself in the hotel garden. It was empty, with no other sound to be heard than the fireworks booming somewhere in the sky. The night was cold, but with the four walls that framed the garden protecting her from the wind and the warmth of the inside lingering on her body, it was bearable. It was enjoyable, even, to feel the cool air on her face. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, cleansing her body of the bad emotions each time she exhaled. She breathed the tears back inside before they could fall; breathed the pain out.

Vic was almost ready to head back inside when the sound of footsteps scraping softly against the gravel made her open her eyes. She turned around.

Ripley was standing a few feet away, gaze locked on her face. There was very little light in the garden, only a dim glow filtering through the glass windows of the hotel, but even hidden in the shadows, the sight of him was enough to make her forget how to breathe and for her heart to start pounding in her chest.

But she forced her features to remain smooth and unreadable, hoping the relative darkness would be enough to hide her annoyingly expressive eyes. She didn’t want him to know how much he affected her, especially now that she knew that she left him utterly indifferent.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever as they both stood very still, staring into each other’s eyes, his blue ones reduced to two white dots glimmering in the night; as were hers, she knew. It was him who broke the silence, with that raspy voice she’d heard in too many of her dreams.

“Hey.”

“Chief,” she said with a nod and a polite twitch of her lips, focusing her slightly clouded brain on keeping her voice blank. She needed the title to create a barrier between them, so that it was only Chief Ripley standing in front of her, and not… _him_. It seemed as though the light in his eyes dimmed at her words, but she knew that was but her imagination showing her what she wanted.

There was an even longer pause. He opened his mouth, closed it; opened it again. “You look beautiful.”

His murmur was almost inaudible amidst the fireworks, but she heard it. A wave of heat washed through her, but it wasn’t desire, or even gratification. It was anger; the anger that had been drowned by her pain when she’d first seen him with his girlfriend and that was now bubbling inside her chest, its force heightened by the excess of alcohol. How dare he stand before her and tell her she was beautiful like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t lied to her to justify hurting her, like he hadn’t just been kissing the woman he’d left her for?

Vic took a deep breath, forced herself to remain calm, her voice to remain emotionless. “Thank you, sir.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t move, either; just stood there, silently looking at her with an expression that she couldn’t make out in the dark. Vic was the one to break the silence this time. “Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

“I, uh, saw you walk out. And you –” he sighed “you seemed upset. I just – I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

_The nerve._ She couldn’t bite back her disdainful scoff, nor could she stop the angry sarcasm that seeped through her answer. “Your concern for me is touching, sir.”

Even in the dark, she could see the surprise and confusion that settled on his face. “Vic… Did – did I do something wrong?”

Her bitter laughter echoed in the garden as something inside of her snapped. Her anger leaked in her veins, making her blood boil, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. She let go of her calm and polite façade. “Did you do something wrong? Are you fucking kidding me? Or do you just not remember that you dumped me like a sack of potatoes?”

He shook his head in incomprehension. “What? I don’t – I didn’t… Vic, I thought we were on the same page; about ending things. That it would be easier if –”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a derisive snort. “You can stop using that excuse.”

“What – what excuse?”

Vic let out an angry groan. “Oh my God, just admit it already!”

“Admit _what_?” his tone had grown more irritated, which only infuriated her even more.

“That you just didn’t want to be me anymore!” she finally let out in a loud, raging voice. “And you used that fucking ‘not growing the tree’ excuse because you’re a fucking coward. I know that we didn’t define anything, that we didn’t talk about we were doing, that it wasn’t serious, but I still deserved the truth. I deserved that you look me in the eye and tell me that you didn’t want to see me anymore. I would have understood, I would have handled it. I’m a big girl; I know that sometimes people just lose interest. And I don’t blame you for that. It happens. But you _lied_ to me, you pretended that you ended it because it was the best thing to do, when really you just wanted to be rid of me so that you could start fucking your new girlfriend!”

Her eyes were shooting daggers at him as her voice grew louder and louder, and she had to fight the tears of anger that threatened to fall down her cheeks. He just looked at her, dumbfounded. Her last words seemed to awake him, though.

“Vic, I didn’t – Liv’s not –”

A startlingly loud bang swallowed the rest of his sentence, followed by another, then another. The fireworks grand finale, Vic realized. For a moment, neither of them spoke, knowing that their words would be drowned by the booming sounds. When the noise subsided, he opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could get out even one syllable.

“Save it,” she spit as she raised an invisible barrier in front of her with her hands. “Just save it. I don’t wanna hear whatever excuses you have for me. So, just go – go and grow a fucking thousand year old oak tree with _Liv_ ; I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true; even she couldn’t delude herself into thinking it was, but there was just enough conviction in her voice that he might believe her, which was what she was aiming for. “I’m done, we’re done. Just – just don’t talk to me if it’s not about work and it’ll be fine.”

Her eyes left him to focus on the door to the garden as she determinedly strode past him, praying to whatever deities that might or might not exist not to let her drunken state and high heels make her fall. She was almost at the door when he spoke again.

“Vic…” It was almost pleading, but she couldn’t care less; she was full-on enraged now and she wasn’t about to let him give her explanations that would allow him to feel better about lying to her.

She stopped in her tracks but didn’t turn around; simply turned her head as far as her neck would permit and spoke over her shoulder, her tone as cold and biting as a Greenlandic winter, “It’s Hughes, now, _sir_.”

*

* *

As soon as Vic reentered the ballroom, Travis knew that something was still very wrong; it was written all over her face. Clearly, her moment alone hadn’t been of any help. Maybe he should have pushed to go with her, he reflected. It was never a good idea to be alone with your sad thoughts, especially when you’d already had a fair amount of alcohol.

He watched her head straight for the bar, told the others that he was going to join her, and did just that, fraying himself a path through the dancing crowd.

“You okay?” he asked as he leaned on the bar next to Vic.

“Ran into Ripley,” she groaned. “Well, he followed me rather, wanted to see if I was okay. So, I yelled at him. Again. And I told him I didn’t care about him or his fucking gorgeous leagues-long-legged girlfriend. He’s an ass. I hate him. Nope, that’s not true. I want to hate him. But I don’t. So, now, I’m gonna drink, so I can forget that I don’t hate him.”

She raised her glass and drank half of it in one swig. Travis grew concerned; she’d already drunk a lot tonight, more than any of them, and they were all more than a little drunk by now.

“Vic, don’t you think you should maybe slow down on the alcohol?”

His best friend raised a stubborn eyebrow. “Nope. It’s the New Year, and I very much plan to get completely, utterly, totally wasted. And wipe that disapproving look off your face” – she waved her hand in a circle in front of his face – “because I’m going through a kinda, sorta break-up and, as my best friend, you have to be supportive. It’s in the rule-book.”

There was no talking her out of it, Travis knew that much. All he could do was pace his own drinking so that he could take care of her should it become necessary.

It did.

As the hours passed, Vic’s movements became less and less deliberate while her speech got more and more unintelligible. Around four, more than half the people were gone, and, out of the ones still here, more were busy making out (and most likely doing other things) on the couches or in the corners than dancing. Jack, Dean, Maya and Andy were almost as drunk as Vic, the three ladies had been complaining about their feet killing them for several hours now, and so they decided to call it a night.

Though she’d had no trouble dancing, Vic had apparently forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. Travis quickly put a hand around her waist before she could trip and fall, and she heavily leaned on him. They got their coats and made it to the front of the hotel with Travis half carrying her while she laughed about literally everything with Andy and Maya – who, at least, could walk on their own.

He was grateful for the fresh air that washed over his face as soon as they stepped out. It didn’t seem to suit Vic, though.

“Trav,” she slurred, “I think I’m gonna –”

She didn’t have the time to finish her sentence before she bent over and threw up all over their shoes. A shiver of disgust ran down his spine. He turned to the others.

“I think we’re gonna wait a bit before we call our Uber,” he stated. “But you guys go ahead and head home. We’ll be fine.”

“You sure, man?” Warren – probably the only one who could process what was happening – asked. “I can stay if you need me.”

“Don’t worry about it; you have Jack and Dean to put to bed. Just, make sure Andy and Maya get into their Uber?”

Ben nodded and Travis turned his attention back to the heavy body clinging to him like he was a life-line. He led her a few yards away from the entrance and held the strands of hair that had escaped from her bun as she vomited against the building, while the palm of his other hand traced soothing circles on her back.

Travis let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t mind taking care of her (that was what friends were for), nor was he concerned about how drunk she was; other than the pounding in her head when she’d wake up, she would be perfectly fine. And if she’d found herself in that state just because it was the New Year and she wanted to party, he’d have found it amusing, just like Maya and Andy’s actions tonight had him sniggering more than once. But the fact that it was a guy who’d driven her to drink like that infuriated him to no end, and at the same time made him so very sad, because she was heartbroken and there was nothing he could do to make the pain stop. Only time healed; he knew that better than anyone.

After a while, Vic straightened up and flashed him a childlike smile. “Okay, I’m done now.”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh,” she said with an emphatic nod. “There’s nothing left.”

Travis chuckled. “Alright. I’ll just go and grab you a bottle of water. You wait for me at the door, deal?”

“Yep.”

It only took him a couple of minutes, then he was back outside and calling an Uber. The driver shot them a worried look as Travis helped Vic climb inside the car. “She won’t be sick,” he promised immediately.

The driver nodded and started driving. Vic didn’t waste any time resting her head on Travis’s shoulder, eyelids fluttering.

“Travis?” she enquired in a weak voice after a moment of silence.

“Hmm?”

“I’m super sorry. I said I wouldn’t let him ruin my night, and I did. And I ruined your night, too. Because I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

Travis brought his arm around her shoulder and gently stroked her arm. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to be sorry, okay? You didn’t ruin my night. I had a lot of fun, tonight. And you are _not_ stupid, okay? You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

She shook her head stubbornly. “I’m a stupid, stupid girl. I thought he liked me. That he cared, or – I don’t know, something.”

Her voice was quivering now, and Travis’s heart clenched. Vic had never been a maudlin drunk. She was a happy drunk, a goofy drunk, who couldn’t stop laughing. He hated seeing her like this; hated what Ripley had done to her. The itch to punch the guy had never been stronger than right now.

“He’s the one too stupid to appreciate how amazing you are, Vic,” he murmured in her ear.

She made a sound that was half a sob, half a scoff. “Right. He’s the stupid one, but I’m the pathetic fool drunk crying on her best friend’s shoulder while he’s –”

She paused, moved her head away from his shoulder to stare at him with an expression of horror. “Oh God, do you think he’s fucking her right now?” He didn’t even have the time to answer before she burst into tears. “He is, isn’t he? Wow, I’m so fucking pathetic. And so fucking stupid. I’m crying, and he’s fucking and growing trees and –”

Her voice broke and she buried her head in the crook of his neck, sobbing and sniffling, and he could only stroke her hair and murmur that it was going to be okay in his most soothing voice. Vic kept crying, mumbling incoherent words every few seconds. Travis caught the sympathetic eye of their driver in the rearview mirror and his lips stretched into a polite smile.

His shirt was soaked with tears when they stopped in front of her building. Travis thanked the driver and helped Vic out of the car, then half-dragged, half-carried her to her apartment. He led her to the bathroom, helped her out of her dress – which was going to require a thorough cleaning before it could be worn again – and her shoes – which he was pretty sure were unsalvageable –, then grabbed a washcloth and gently wiped her face with it.

She had stopped crying and was now busy apologizing over and over again and thanking him for taking care of her like that.

“Stop staying you’re sorry, Vic; it happens to the best of us,” he said as he ran the washcloth over her cheekbone. “And stop thanking me. You know you’d be doing the same for me if the situation was reversed.”

His words were met with a petulant frown. “You’re still the best friend in the universe. I love you so much. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I don’t deserve you. I’m a mess. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He gave her his warmest smile. “Stop talking nonsense, Vic. You’re amazing. I love you too. And I think that _you_ are the best friend in the universe. Now, come, let’s get you some more water and then you can go to bed.”

“Okay,” she answered, her voice very much that of a child.

She drank to full glasses of water and then they went back to her bedroom. He found pajamas in her closet and tossed them to Vic before finding a t-shirt for himself – he’d decided he would sleep on her couch, since he didn’t want her to be alone when she woke up and had to face her hangover and the memory of her break-down.

“Trav?” she said once she was safely tucked in her bed, comforter raised to her chin, her voice soft and sad as her eyes suddenly filled with tears again.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah?”

“I’m in love with him.”

Travis sighed as he ran a comforting finger over her cheek. His lips twitched into a sad smile.

“I know,” he murmured in a soft tone.

He did know. He had known since she’d first told him about their relationship; it was in the way she would smile when she talked about him, the way her eyes would light up when she said his name.

A single tear escaped the corner of her eye as she spoke in a slightly trembling and utterly heartbreaking voice, “It hurts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the toughest one to write yet. I apologize to those of you who thought it was going to end well, and hope you still enjoyed it. 
> 
> Thanks to all of you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos.
> 
> Special thanks to Sofar, who gave me the idea for Vic's dress, which looks like that in my mind, if any of you are interested : https://www.asos.com/fr/asos-design/asos-design-robe-longue-asymetrique-en-tulle/prd/12892586 clr=bordeaux&colourWayId=16468717&SearchQuery=&cid=15156
> 
> My exams start in less than two weeks, so I'm not sure there will be another chapter before the 7th of July, which is when they end. But it's coming, don't worry!


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